the line-up is shorter
as people get picked, for careers, marriage, death, disease, and let’s hope—not dismemberment
I want to stay a member of Club Body.
Not to be picked, is a failing, or at least teams might say
“You can’t hold-out forever, for perfect love, or a task that will choose you.”
To be picked, is to be acceptable, to be accepted (not for you).
You must acknowledge
what chooses you
Is it acceptable? What if it’s not?
You are waiting by the road, and a killer offers you a ride
Do you take it, because he drives a brand-new Firebird?
If you allow teams to choose you, they will use you
they will celebrate your service
with a 5-year mug, as you drink your life away
the alternative, is no recognition at all
waiting, for wonderful
In time, when you don’t belong, you will be a vagrant
policed, for standing out-of-place
but if you choose what is not your choice
you can never go back.
speaks to you
as the crowd screams your name
DON’T DO IT!
listen to the inner one
you won’t get fame
It will be
a gradual feeling
you are doing
All the nights,
that might’ve been, won’t matter
the tug, pulling at your heart-strings,
pulling you away, from the Crowd
the muscle that moves your blood