My Quarter Life Crisis

I hope I get it figured out

Whatever this shit’s all about

I hope I accomplish what I’m meant to do

Before my era on this flying rock is through

Cause I’ve just been listing

Drinking tea and kind of drifting

From one year to the next

To the next and the next

No purpose, more than halfway to fifty

Just waiting for something to hit me

‘Calm down, girl. It’s fine,’ they say

‘You’re young, you’ve got time, it’s okay.’

But it’s been twenty-six years of them screaming ‘talent and potential’

And still the only time I’m essential

Is while senselessly killing myself

To make them rich, no regard for my health

In my soul I know there must be more

Or what the hell has this all been for

But who on this Earth has the time

To find their purpose, while living on their own dime?

’Cause money makes the world go round

So we run our bodies into the ground

Put our dreams and passions on hold

Sure we’ll pick them up before we’re cold

Eventually they wither away

Crushed beneath responsibilities compounding by the passing day

Leaving nothing when we’re gone, but our name

And the thousands of ways we’re all exactly the same

There maybe an alternative though, you see

If I can find that which sets my spirit free

Maybe I can break the spell

Be more than just the same old story to tell

My mind is restless

My hands itch

My heart aches for a path

Wild, untested, and rich.

Will I leave their hearts better than I found them?

Will I do anything worth while?

Will they miss me when I’m gone?

Will they say that I ever made them smile?

I hope for cause

I hope for a way

To leave more of a dent in this world

Than just my grave