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They say passion won’t feed you, You won’t earn a dime. You will be lost in this world With no security in life. When you study for something You don’t know why, You work hard something That isn’t even your kind. You don’t know why, You don’t know how, You get stuck In a rat race that you never cared about. Maybe that's how we grew that’s what we learned, When our future where decided Without our say, burnt “Your dreams are stupid” “They will get you no where in life” That's what everyone told us Even before we got to try. Good college Good grades Good job What after that? A slave to the corporate job Work nine to five, Doing something you hate At least to eat ,You’ll survive You look into the sky, Wish you fought for a while. How many Picassos were forced to leave their brushes? How many Ruskin bond books were burnt? How many Robert Frost poems were thrown in the garbage? How many Shakespeare were thrown off the stage? You will never know Just to survive in this vast world. “Art is for dumb people” They say with pride. I don’t understand why. A deaf person can see painting and can feel more than a human's words ever made him felt A blind person can hear a poem can see all the things than people say he could never dealt When paper has more feelings than Humans When beauty exists Beyond its sight That is art. A person in this materialist world would never understand What that means to hold all this in our hands Maybe you’ll eat. Maybe you’ll live. But the thought of never giving it a shot I eat you alive and still. They say passion Doesn’t feed you, Doesn’t pay your bills, Doesn’t make you full, Well that's lie I tell Because i have seen people with plates overflowing, Still starving inside, For a chance to go back To chase the fire they were once afraid to build.
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Apr 14
Apr 14, 2026 at 11:55 PM UTC
Still Starving
They say passion won’t feed you, You won’t earn a dime. You will be lost in this world With no security in life. When you study for something You don’t know why, You work hard something That isn’t even your kind. You don’t know why, You don’t know how, You get stuck In a rat race that you never cared about. Maybe that's how we grew that’s what we learned, When our future where decided Without our say, burnt “Your dreams are stupid” “They will get you no where in life” That's what everyone told us Even before we got to try. Good college Good grades Good job What after that? A slave to the corporate job Work nine to five, Doing something you hate At least to eat ,You’ll survive You look into the sky, Wish you fought for a while. How many Picassos were forced to leave their brushes? How many Ruskin bond books were burnt? How many Robert Frost poems were thrown in the garbage? How many Shakespeare were thrown off the stage? You will never know Just to survive in this vast world. “Art is for dumb people” They say with pride. I don’t understand why. A deaf person can see painting and can feel more than a human's words ever made him felt A blind person can hear a poem can see all the things than people say he could never dealt When paper has more feelings than Humans When beauty exists Beyond its sight That is art. A person in this materialist world would never understand What that means to hold all this in our hands Maybe you’ll eat. Maybe you’ll live. But the thought of never giving it a shot I eat you alive and still. They say passion Doesn’t feed you, Doesn’t pay your bills, Doesn’t make you full, Well that's lie I tell Because i have seen people with plates overflowing, Still starving inside, For a chance to go back To chase the fire they were once afraid to build.
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Apr 14
Apr 14, 2026 at 11:55 PM UTC
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