Yes Ma'am,
no sir.
Sufficient answers,
they concur.

"Respect me,
do chores."
But this strife
my life abhors

Their stringent rules
and regulations,
all of society's
expectations

My aspirations,
pushed aside
by what my superiors
have in mind

For what they call
my potential,
makes my design
inconsequential

My dreams, my hopes,
my wishes and fears?
All washed away
like childhood tears

Forget fun,
for it will fade.
And Carpe Diem?
Don't seize the day.

Live for tomorrow.
Pray for success.
Want money and fame,
then you're blessed.

But what of real wants?
Of passion and feeling?
What of my need
for some kind of meaning?

Should i push to be perfect
and do what I'm told?
Just to fit into
society's mold?

Or fight for my mind,
my freedom, my expression?
To be labeled a rebel
that was pushed to depression.

I'm uncertain, unsure
I don't know who to be.
I'm just yes ma'am, no sir
until I find me.