Question.

Are you all just waiting for an excuse to cry?
A legitimate excuse to pout and whine?
Maybe we don’t dear to cross
What’s become the ol’ pattern of regular?

Some people live for the dramatic sensations
But that’s just an excuse
For not confronting the real issue;
Constant wrecking of our youth.

In cubicles, in grey.
We live it every day.
A pattern of life for learning
But the outcome, who’s to say?

I’m supposed to be prepared
For the adult way of living
But if this’s how it’s going to be
I don’t want what it’s giving.

Vanity’s what I’m learning
Emptiness’s what I get.
Is this what they’re preparing me for
After many years regret?