I’ve been running on autopilot all these years
Ignoring into oblivion all my fears
Fears of not living up to my potential
Fears of not having the right credentials

All of a sudden, or not so much
I’m faced with forks in the road and such
Decisions, decisions, another arbitrary choice
I’ve never really chosen, guided by that nagging voice
“The path well trodden for now, will serve you in the long run!
Safety first, plenty of time for fun”
I’m not saying I've always coloured inside the lines
And I wasn't always afraid to march out of time
But you won’t be seeing my name on the news
Or my face in a painting, I’m nobody’s muse

Quarter-life crisis- such a common phrase
I suppose that’s because it’s the norm these days
Twenty-five years seems a long enough time
To chart a path for yourself, to begin the climb

I find myself struggling though it all seems on track
It appears I’ve managed to keep up with the pack
But as I stand before this obstacle course
I’m paralyzed, wondering did I choose the wrong horse?
The paradox of choice it is called
Myriad choices-an order too tall
Have I fallen prey to a sense of entitlement?
Or is this dissatisfaction rather important?

I wonder, am I even in the right race?
I’ve always felt somewhat out of place
Like an outsider looking in
Not sure how to wear my own skin
Yet I’ve played the role well enough
Lucky not to have it very tough

My biggest enemy has always been my own doubt
Never stood up to myself, so I’ve never stood out
I strived to be ordinary in exchange for peace of mind
That’s one goal I achieved: I’m top of the line!

*I hope I manage to figure it out
Before it's too late, before I lose the next bout
Maybe it starts with as simple a change
As ditching your umbrella to dance in the rain!