21

At 21 we were invincible.

Clutching degrees hard won

by dreary work on moonlit nights

Pens poised to take notes on

pages held tightly

Convinced that debate and protest could win all the many battles of our time.

Propped awake by caffeine adrenaline and ambition

A cocktail of bright ideas and unwavering dreams we

Marched out into the world confident

we were ready.

We return from work now weary and unimaginative

The mundane tasks of everyday

chipping away at the remnants of creativity we used to use as fuel

Hopes and dreams drain away with the soapy scum of dishes we let pile too high

The spark of an idea suffocates under a growing pile of unpaid bills

Never to be found again.

At 21 we were invincible.

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