my only form of expression left

I feel like I never dreamed until the age of seventeen,

telling little kids to be realistic that’s just ballistic,

what’s there to say when a seven year olds dream is to work a nine to five every day,

people aren’t chasing dreams they’re chasing paper it seems,

 kids are dying inside because there creativity has to hide,

we force them to conform now their hopes come in standard form,

if they don’t fight through their dreams will never come true,

we force them to rebel then wonder why they’re raising hell,

the way I fight it is to write,

it’s the only chance at expressing my creativity I have left.