It starts out simple, concrete, and existing.
The things we like to carry reveal the truths to our own living.
What we enjoy and who we want to be.
The things I carry reveal a skeleton of me.
The lip balm, an ipod, water bottle, and agenda
I keep these things close as a source of well-being.
A letter from a friend, a violin, a flute
These outlets of my life express my identity.
Is it possible to make a difference?
Something noteworthy, something we expected?
Everyone anticipates to impact the world.
But the burden of living seems to get in the way.
Being active, I give off a purpose-driven life.
Goals in abundance, striving for perfection
But is that what I want to carry?
My weight is more subliminal, abstract and not quite real.
The ability to be myself feels...out of reach
I please others, but when do I start pleasing myself?
In college? At my job? Or will there be a day when it is too late?
Trying to focus on my dreams, there are too many burdens in the way
Positive role-model, still trying to fit in, doing so many things
It literally takes my breath and a void left within.
Let’s take out all conformity, attempt to be our best.
A world in need will take care of us, as we begin our quest.
The thinkers, solvers, wonderers,
We plan to change the world.
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