We let freedom run through our minds,
Letting it take up what it finds.
We think nothing of deadlines to be met,
Only of the ideas we haven’t thought up yet.
We hate the world and love it with all our might,
Marveling at the spectacularly ugly sights.
These sights, the things we try to fix,
Hypothesizing, justifying, using all our wits.
But then our attention turns away,
Because our minds can’t be kept at bay.
They wander everywhere, cannot be led,
Away to foreign lands we thought we’d never tread.
Fortunately in these lands, we can discover our passion.
Our sense of self coming in an awkward fashion.
Though we didn’t think it’d end up like that,
We just have to make the best of what we have.