We ain’t supposed to make it past 30

Tick Tock! Tick Tock!

Go to school, get a job, and build a career,

They said, but there aren’t any jobs anymore,

So what do we do?

We do drugs, and smoke some more, 

To feel a little and live a little more,

The numbness so grave, the soul is sore,

We dig deep, run laps, and press on,

Good physiques, we seek for the core,

To stand straight, shoulders high, and not bend low,

But the system’s rigged handing us blow after blow,

Are we really supposed to make it past 30?

Find a love, start a family, secure the bloodline,

An ideology passed on and transcending the botched modern trendiness,

We try to find the ‘ones’ beyond the dreams and nightmares.

The future is so bleak; the truth we were not told,

Of strict commitment and sacrifice, nature is bold.

Our neediness to self, we have to scold,

A resurgence to the crisis, we need to hold,

Or risk our social units getting lost in the cold,

The art of raising our progeny lost, morality eroded,

Are we really supposed to make it past 30?

For us, life dwells in the shadows of pain, sweat, and tears,

Current atrocities dissolving all our unions, families, and peers,

Slowly we cascade into loneliness and despairs,

If you look into my eyes, you will see the hunger there,

A need to motivate mines and theirs,

There are secrets of the world I have to tell here and there,

Of places so peaceful and dear,

You matter, I matter, and everyone matters,

We weren’t supposed to make it past 30 but you and I shall conquer the third floor!