How To Be A Man

My poetry is just a tutorial,

Of a game very scary;

It may sound superstitial,

The amount of pain I carry.

My dreams were made artificial,

Get a job and a girl to marry;

Can't be an artist, it ain't practical,

How will you feed the kids that you'll carry?

I belived I can be an intellectual,

It wasn't like I was believing in a fairy;

They said do as we say, it'll be beneficial,

'Cause bodies don't themselves burry.

I got scared, which was natural,

So I gave up and my dreams got blurry;

Now I work in a company, it's multinational,

Can't write more 'cause I've to hurry.