I don't want the cookie-cutter life they lead.

I'm beginning to wonder why
they all prefer to live life in the clear.
Pristinely, they breathe without burns,
but what love is a love without smears?

I don't want this cookie-cutter life they lead.

Nineteen years and I,
I've lived peacefully here.
No cause for complaints, but I'd turn,
turn down these days ebbing with drear.

'Cause I don't want the cookie-cutter life they lead.

And I feel a pull from a past life
that's leading me away from here.
Tingling at my fingertips, I yearn
for a thrill that only I can steer.

I don't want the cookie-cutter life they lead.

But I've hesitated all my life,
just waiting for someone to hear.
Hundreds of poems, now I learn,
will never allow me to veer.

And I don't want the cookie-cutter life they lead.

'Cause they'll swiftly pass by
the ragged ones standing near.
They have their wealth, and they hold it firm,
crisp cuffs and collars, still it's love they fear.

I don't want this cookie-cutter life they lead.

So many people and places
that we've all been cutting corners on.
My neighbors prefer fine leathers and laces,
but from such frills I've always felt withdrawn.

And lately I feel so selfish,
writing about the truths I still seek.
Like the pool, my stagnant wish
is slowly breaking at its peak.

Perhaps I should channel my fruitless love
towards more fruitful deeds,
rather than writing of how I don't want
this cookie-cutter life they lead,

and just waiting for someone else to plant the seed.