All I want to do
Is make art
And travel
Why does it cost so much to live?
You charge me for breathing
Then ask me why I want to die
You tell me I am stuck
Working a never-ending
Dead-end job
That requires a degree
With not near enough pay
For the rest
Of
My
Life
And then wonder why I want to give up
My only skill is in art
And you tell me art is overrated
And that I'll never make it
While you watch your CGI movies
And read your comic books
And buy thousands of products with logos
You tell me to get a "real job"
That pays half as much as my art would
And to get a degree just to have that job
And you tell me to do this for the rest of my life
Because I won't have enough money to do anything else
Well fuck you
Because I'm not doing what you tell me anymore
I will make art
And I will travel
And I will live my life actually living
YOU ARE READING
365 days of Ashes
PoesiaOne poem a day for the next 365 days. This is my 2017 in two books and 365 poems Some poems are narratives of my life and thoughts, others are complete nonsense; figuring out which is which is the best part.
