MAYBE I SHOULD BE LIKE OTHERS

I am in a bit of a daze.

I tell myself,

“Look at those flaccid bits;

There lay the logs,

That used to be the jungle 

Of my childhood dreams.”

“Don't be amazed,” I replied,

“These leafless branches and twigs 

Are for your papier-mârché degrees.”

So I listen to my second self for once;

The more logical, cynical and satirical one,

Treading on the plot of their paper works,

Playing crosswords as anxiety uncorks.

My thoughts turn to the bankable orcs,

Just as my career forks.

Maybe I should be like my mother;

Marking numbers on a deck of cards,

Waltzing with chance.

Maybe I should be like my father;

Toiling for some rich man's grandson,

Seething in Trance.

Maybe I should be like others;

Going along with the system,

Thanking myself.

Beneath a cap, a diploma, 

And a piece of paper,

I wore these books 

Like a tuxedo of bank notes.

©T_Genetics