Inventor, Writer, Scientist;

Engineer, Reporter, Chemist;

Mechanic, CEO, Lawyer;

Nun, Priest, Manager;

Judge, Congressman, Soldier;

Politician, Senator, Officer;

Teacher, Doctor, Psychiatrist;

Missionary, Nurse, Philanthropist.

 

The list is never ending,

Always pulling people in.

Constantly developing,

Creating new positions.

 

Through this endless list,

You’d think the decision,

Would be simple;

To find your niche in life,

And make something of yourself.

 

But if you’re anything like me,

Your current title is “Wanderer;”

Trying to make sense of the world,

Wanting desperately for your eyes to see.

 

I am riding through the motions,

Taking life day by day;

Wishing, hoping, praying,

For my intended path to be displayed.

 

I understand my wants, my desires, and my needs,

Yet I cannot count,

The number of times,

I’ve begged for guidance,

From my knees.

 

I want to make a difference,

I desire to live a fulfilling life,

I need my words to be heard,

While I still have some time.

 

70 credits have been achieved,

With 1 diploma to my name;

Yet I anticipate more caps, gowns, and tassels,

But I fear I’ll be left,

Feeling empty all the same.

 

Outsiders looking in,

Offer support and reassuring words;

They remind me to be patient,

Things will soon change,

This is just how the world works.

 

My passions are rather simple,

Music, art, and poems;

Yet the fear of not being good enough,

Has led me down a path unknown.

 

When you go to sleep and wake up,

What’s the one thing on your mind?

The answer is far too simple,

But can a writer do more,

Than merely survive?

 

It shouldn’t be this troublesome,

To pick the path, which you love;

But the world has set high standards,

And now only the best can keep up.

 

The question should not be about a dream job,

But rather a dream life,

My dream is to do a job I love daily,

And not struggle but through it, truly experience life.