Adjusted

There's no way of knowing where i'm going.
Instead of living i'm supposed to sit back; floating.
Go with the flow and be patient,
Stay seated in your proper station.
I'm tired of this repitive daily grind.
So bored I've made voices in my mind.
We just keeping going, nonstop,
Promised our dreams at the top.
We're all put into one big clump,
What if I don't want to just do,?
What if I've decided i'm through?
It's so tempting to turn and run,
It seems so new, fresh, and fun.
The problem is I have no skills,
I'm so used to just doing without thrills,
As i'm following everyone down the stream,
I see hope, love, a dream.
It's blurry and blinding far away
I sigh, hope to see it one day.
The current keeps going as do I
I'm to scared I think as I cry.
I'm not brave enough to escape the grind.
I'm not ready to leave this behind.
It's comforting being told what to do,
You never have to improvise something new.
I'm always safe following along with it,
Wondering how it is outside this picket.