Just One Job


You're told you can achieve whatever you yearn

Yet you're kept naive to the fiscal ways

You follow your dream without a concern

Just assuming writing would bring you pay


Soon you realize literature is tough

Seeing others recieve more praise than you

Rivalry? The opus was hard enough

How can your passions possibly come true?


Money's influence makes your heart turn blind

Dreams become a fantasty of the past

Choosing to bear a more doable grind

Life is plush, yet you craze a task recast


Regrets form for choosing cash over goals

But how could you succeed with all those tolls?





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