As I turned 17, my youth just past
a realisation settled in that it was all too fast.
Began it did, a moment of cast;
in the memory of a mortal so vast.
A job, girls and the letting of a house.
I soon took head when all the bills poured out.
I didn’t realise the pain which would sadden me to fall.
Is it worth it?
Paying 50% to this unknown?
The support continues, that is what they need
as the elite can’t create for their simple means.
Are these rules of society set at dim?
I’m fighting for a top job now as more responsibility wades in:
children, a mortgage and a car that never wins.
I can see myself at 60 looking back in sin;
could I have done more, or was I just too grim?
Following the rulebook to which I see no success,
maybe its time to appear from behind this twisted mess.
I can hear the wind;
I can feel the sun;
all that’s stopping us:
is a rise,
and a simple must.