Is life really my choice?
As a statement they agree "of course"
Then why do I feel so pushed, molded?
As if my life if carved by force

They label one option as perfection
And stamp it into my naïve brain
That path is accessorized with every offering
And the other: a dirty look and disdain

I have seen the other interesting road
To my fun hobby and skill
Alas, I'm too inexperienced to argue
They say childish "fun" days, I've had my fill

Now I excel in what they did want me to acquire
But why in my heart, a tint of regret
For I look back to what I did desire
And wonder if I could've been happier yet