The Creative Bug
“I’m striving for mediocrity” she answers.
“I fly to the light bulb, but can’t get in.
Me and the others are the dancers
They never let in.”
That bug strives to be mediocre.
She falls to the ground after hitting
The light bulb, I poke her,
Asking her why she’s just sitting
On the ground
To be found
Still.
Still, she is mine.
And everything we do screams
“We’re doing fine”
Without chasing our dreams.
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