Cult popularism overtakes my brain
Conformity rushing unwillingly, stiflingly, down my throat

The literature of the mind taken from me
By my own devices
The lure of the cliched mass' is oblivion
Fufillment of an expected mold
Individuality of thought drains away

May my overthinking of all be lost
In this teenage stereotype

Roll on, from the dusty annals of recent history
Move on, from the cramped expectations of the modern age
Live on, from the collapsing of youthful expresionism in the face of a cynical world'

Move up, from your designated station
Crouch down, beneath the flickering lights of blank popularism
Stand tall, in the face of all that expects you to cower
Bow low, in respect to those who have had the courage to create the path less traveled

And never, never, nevermore; take life for granted