Mom, Can I Write?

I have a poem that one day
We can stand side by side
Marching forward to the lands of the future
That we lift up spirits instead of breaking them
Taking the spirits and molding then into fine china
That is irreplaceable to the naked eye.
 
Mom I know you want me to become a doctor
But remember Martin Luther King Jr. wasn't a doctor
But I can find other ways to heal the world
Let me take my pen and my penicillin 
Write prescriptions of inspiration towards those who want it
Mom I know you want me to be a lawyer
But I'm not going to defend on what is not true
The only truth that I know is inspiration
 
Back then inspiration was found in the corner of your house
Now it's just ants because everyone is crushing the little guys
We can make greater and bigger things for posterity 
If we just put it back at the corner again
And mom I know that this world is a crazy one
But you got to let me spread my wings
And spread a jelly of inspiration with this pen, or this pencil
Or even the crimson that swims through my veins
So mom please, I don't mind the career choices
But my career is to inspire
So mom, let me write

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