My head spins, jumps, and slides,
I feel like I have so little time!
What do I want to be or to do?
I feel as if I can't even tie my own shoes...
Confusion, all through the air.
College will soon be right there.
My heart is racing and I wanna cry,
I can't be stuck with a bad job till I die.
Will I figure it out, yes or no?
This isn't going to be as clear as fresh Winter snow.
Artist? Vet? Doctor? No!
Which job makes the most dough?
I only care for money, not for what I want.
Which is a burden, for which I haunt.
Will I choose?
I don't know.
on what to be.
Will I be a failure, maybe.
Hopefully, no, I will strive
Because my senses are definitely alive.
I will pick myself up, and think again,
because this poem,
is finally at the end.