poems anonymous

What do I want to be when I grow up? I don’t know. When someone asks, I have my answer. Mechanical engineer. Yes, I want that. It makes money, and I’m interested in it. But I could be more, happier. I could own a traveling coffee shop inside of a bus, I could do online marketing and live by the beach all day long, I could start a revolutionary tech company and live in New York City, I could be a fashion designer who turns art into clothing in France, I could run from society and live on a small tropical island I could do so much more. I could be so much more.

  “maybe it was her fear of abandonment or just her insecurity but she felt a bit sad that he didn’t seem to feel the same way as her.” “He didn’t just want to be loved. he wanted to be accepted. he wanted someone who would accept him no matter what his flaws were.”