Germs in Peru

Everyone talks about being real

But it seems like

The things that are real to them

Are new cars, posting statuses,

horny rap artists, bright lights, and mobile devices

All these 'real' things

That are actually turning them into faker people

They're like zombies walking

With nothing to walk to

This whole human spectrum

Drifting to the shallow end

Because all these people want to taste

The sweet taste of acceptance

So badly


They're following the same map

Everyone else is

Following morons on Twitter

Wearing way too much make-up

Too scared to be themselves

So they decide they've got to be like someone else

Who seems like they've got it all figured out

When they actually have nothing

And are emotional wrecks themselves


I don't want to live like that

I can't live like that

I won't follow, I won't listen

Not to be unique

But because I don't like the path

People are walking on right now

I want something else

I want something genuine

Something that's worth discoverin'

I don't know exactly what it is yet

But it'll be one crazy journey to find out

I'll search no matter what

I'll find a way

Even if I'm alone

I'll make it happen

I'll carve a path

And make my own little map

This has become my greatest goal

In my tiny life


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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