Lament of the Malleable - Tyler Jones

We are born amorphous

We are all malleable denizens

Shaped as the world wills

Forged in the cesspools of peer pressure

Licked by the flames of our parents’ wishes

Impeded by the guile of strangers

Pigeonholed by tests with the supposed quality of prophecy

We graze about these grandiose fields ripe with fruits of opportunity and opposition

Perusing for ways to solidify ourselves, become statuesque

Who are we to be, we think?

Into this desperation does the fluid often sink

Violently thrashing about our brains

Looking for substance to quell the growing pains

We must be put into shackles posthaste

Or at the age of thirty thou might suffer an egregious fate

Still malleable but starting to seep into the Earth

Still roaming the lands of peer pressure

Influenced by a myriad of strangers

Alas by now thine parents have perished

Failing to avail thee of thine crucible

That which we are all forged through

What are we here for? And what should we do?

The vastness of possibilities

Deciphering the blueprints of well-read texts

Realizing identity cannot be strong-armed by self-help

Infinitely tearing you neuron by neuron

It is laborious to sift through

The paths you could tread on

Though we are malleable

Parts of thyself remain unchanged

A lack of confidence

And a dilapidated brain

This is a warning

A tidal wave of advice

Work through your identity now

Or be caught in this woeful vice

Do not die amorphous

You were born to be concrete

To be forged by your brilliance

Not by those who brandish deceit