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.
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.