You are the little girl who wants to be

A doctor one day

To put on a white gown and a pair of squeaky clean shoes

To save lives from behind a mask and a ponytail

But forget it.

You’re not smart enough, not diligent enough

Not man enough.

 

And you, you are the little boy who wants to be

The president one day

To stand in front of millions as a symbol for progress

To serve the country you cherish so much

But forget it.

The odds are against you, a trillion to one

And the numbers never lie.

 

And who am I? I’m glad that you asked

My name is society.

I turn the gears of the machine

I make sure everything goes according to plan

But most importantly

I keep the pipes clear of these pesky little creatures

Called dreams.

 

These dreams if you’re not careful

Can become real, concrete things.

That doctor you see? She was once a little girl.

That man in the White House? He was once a little boy.

But even more dangerous

Is the power these dreams have to change, to create

To inspire.

 

There is a whole generation of young people

Brewing up dreams, brewing up trouble.

They don’t listen to me like they used to

They don’t heed my rules anymore.

I believe that

There is a revolution coming and it is all because of  

These pesky little dreams.