The Minor Fall

We are the children left to inherit the earth after it became possible to destroy it.

We are the ones promised repeatedly to be chosen, but never told what for. 

Warned if we didn't know where we were going any road would take us there, so please excuse us if we don't end up where you'd like. 

The instructions weren't clear and we know it's nobody's fault, there never was GPS.

I'm sorry we're climbing this mountain alone, it's just that all faith in leadership eroded by the time we got here, the facade of Disney love just fell away in a rockslide and we're not even sure this mountain has a peak anymore. 

Dehydration and heat exhaustion and you are the least of our worries. 

And that's not right, but who ever said it was?

Our Great War is against the mirror, our Great Depression is in our minds.

They told us to run around a track, and how could we question them in the days when they were always right? Now every lap has to be faster and our shin splints are up to the rib cage, but we can't think about what we've lost when there are numbers to meet.

Then one day our legs give out. We collapse, crying, and look up to see ourselves in the same place we started. See the kid with asthma that we had the time to walk with after all. Coach long gone, spectators never there, only conformity pushing our petty pain through meaningless laps, realizing too late that we were 

So 

Much 

More.

But this isn't acceptance, this is a call against it.

They never could choose anything for you, I'm sorry. It's up to you now.

It always has been.