At first there's an underlying dream, a passion, a fire
but it's only an afterthought to real day to day life
presently postponed in favor of daily strife
it lives only in the interludes of the busy sticky mire
The dream grows, being fertilized by corporate bullshit
the corporate world is just gray --- no fire
the dream becomes the unfulfilled mind's desire,
needed for the soul's sanity, the spirit's work permit
The vacuous corporate gray flannel suit fires the dream yet more
if not now then never, your hand called on the dream
now plans, spreadsheets, cash flow scheme
and the dream gets teeth, a teething spirit of implore
The mantra shifts --- 'I have to do this', separate from corporate mob
the dream takes your center stage, everyone thinks you're crazy
to throw it all away, what a daisy
to give up such a good 'JOB'.
And the word JOB does it! a JOB is no competition for your dream, your heart pump
and so, with dream in heart and butterflies in belly
you have no choice but to follow your path, o Nellie!
and you jump.
And the dream unfolds
And so do you.
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