Mediocre people.
Mediocre lives.
Mediocre happiness.
Mediocre lies.
We all circle this tiny universe,
Wishing,
Hoping,
Wanting.
Something more.
Because there is nothing,
But the average.
The normal.
A chore.
A slow, feet-dragging, eyes-drooping, shoulder-sagging walk through life where the highs seem to be pebbles we kick along and the lows are like boulders we have to climb to see the next part of the road.
Because we don't have much of a choice.
We are the little ones.
The fresh.
The bold.
The new.
And though the future seems bland,
Though we are all sick and tired of climbing,
Though it all seems to be just boulder after boulder,
We have to believe that there is in fact,
something more.
And maybe it's a fantasy, maybe it's a comic strip or a movie or a book,
Maybe it's complete fiction!
But
Maybe.
After all these boulders, these great, stand-over-me boulders,
There's a mountain of pebbles that we can throw at eachother.
We can make it there.
Because we are the fresh.
The bold.
The new.
We are the future.
A future of superheroes and dragons and utopias,
All at our fingertips because that is
Who we are.

And it seems far away.
But you have the strength,
​the length,
the sheer power to touch it,
To change it all.
And this life, this world seems mediocre now, too mediocre for us all,
All of us climbers,
But,
If you turn around,
Climb back down.
Back over the boulders.
We will all look over our shoulders,
And think.
They could have changed it all.
And to think,
Now,
Maybe nothing will change at all