You're told you can achieve whatever you yearn
Yet you're kept naive to the fiscal ways
You follow your dream without a concern
Just assuming writing would bring you pay
Soon you realize literature is tough
Seeing others receive more praise than you
Rivalry? The opus was hard enough
How can your passions possibly come true?
Money's influence makes your heart turn blind
Dreams become a fantasy of the past
Choosing to bear a more doable grind
Life is plush, yet you craze a task recast
Regrets form for choosing cash over goals
But how could you succeed with all those tolls?
-Malori Ann Howell
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