American Dream

Oddly enough this poem came to me while I was watching Ender’s Game on HBO this afternoon. In solidarity with my Texas relatives I’ve taken a snow day, plus I still have a nasty head cold, so watching HBO is probably therapeutic. 

Back to Ender’s Game–I was struck by how purposeful his education was and for the thousandth time reflected on how without purpose mine was. Yes, I was taught to read, write, and perform mathematics, but to what end? Upon graduation from high school I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do or become.

When I went to college the first time, I was still purposeless. It seemed silly for me to continue spending my parents’ money on a big “if”.

Even when I returned to school I had no real desire to become a teacher; it just made sense for our family. I wonder, how do others deal with this lack of desire to be something specific. I know I had aspirations at one time, but I cannot remember them at all. 

American Dream 

She was smart,

But she held no purpose. 

Talented, 

Yet no audience. 

What benefit then 

Of all this hard work 

These accolades? 

That stellar GPA means 

Less than nothing now; 

Numbers on a printout. 

All for a scroll with 

Her name in tight
Script. 

 He was smart 

But not filled with grand 

Ideas. 

Tailored for 

Leadership through 

Genetics perhaps, and 

Hard work. 

No four year degree or 

Empty promises. 

Trials along his path 

Strengthened his 

Resolve, brought him 

Success. 

 American Dreamers 

Different paths 

Taken together. 

 Not the entire story, 

Neither is it at an end. 

Daily one or both 

Smile, slightly 

Dazed by their
Journey. 

 Remember? he’ll ask 

She always does. 

What next? She’ll wonder. 

Who knows? Says he.

Peace, People!