Futures Thoughts

I look at the world and think;

Do I want to turn the wheel,

Or plough and work the soil,

Or simply sit and hammer steel,

I could fight or flee or toil,

Yet all I think to do is think.

But why do I fill my mind?

Why do I blister my hand?

Where is The answer I can never find?

Then consider the folly of thinking,

We are caught in a system,

I’m trapped and I’m sinking,

That wheel is being turned,

I can hear the steel clinking.

My mind has grown roots

In the very soil that I have dug,

Security, comfort, warmth,

Daily grind is a welcome hug.

I need to break free,

To step into the torrent,

To open my eyes and see.

I know I could fall,

But I could climb so high,

I won’t be dead and buried,

Before the day I die.

So I look at my life and think,

The steel will always clink,

The wheel will always turn,

But the fire that is my life,

Will someday cease to burn.

 

I want to live and love and learn and lust,

I want to toil and turn and teach and trust.

 

All this because I think,

And so I must.