Stress of the Future

Wed, 02/12/2014 - 12:19 -- AutumnH

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.

Confusion everywhere,

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.

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