Cars drive through Lemon street like dogs chasing cats.
A pursuit of some sort; higher education or 40 hours a week.
We have grown so accustomed to this definition of us,
But I wonder if they notice that we're categorized weak.

Look back to a time when you had no shackles.
No titles. No labels. No superiority or inferiority.
I cannot remember a time either.
Such is the nature of disparity through lack of sincerity.

Blue collar or white collar, which will you choose?
"Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains."
You consider yourself an eventual winner, but you still lose;
Something you'll never recreate or revive.

This realization has been planted, imminent fruition.
Question everything, what is it that you want?
That answer will lead to your potential solution
And thus the pilgrimage shall begin.

So, I sit on my concrete plateau overlooking Lemon Street,
Watching the cars passerby from point A to B,
Contemplating if I may find a third path,
Shivering at the acceptance of a future unknown to me.