Fluctuation knows no bounds
only in change can it be found.
Is it a comfort in always knowing
that the river never stops flowing?
It can be comfortable to sit
as a ghost within the machine,
with our daily faces showing
what we think others want to see.
Even if it isn't the real inside me.
How long does this face persist
before our insides realize something's amiss?
For the sake of others
we sacrifice to appease,
living how they think we ought to on a one-time lifetime lease.
My personality's feet
feel so wobbly.
Threatening to crash
at the mass' rejection
until I decide not to live
for their acceptance.
Sadly, not an anachronistic anomaly.
Every generation resists society
trying to shape their fate.
It is within our grasp to
live less linearly.
To shake off the binds, the greed,
the persistence of the elderly,
who dictate the ideals of success
as if all-knowingly.
We must try to identify,
and passionately pursue
our reality, our values
and be prepared to pay what's due.