I hope you remember nothing.
In ten years, maybe you will stop thinking of yourself so much.
If not, blame a political party for holding you back.
I fear you will not have time to see what we see in you.
Our vision for you has changed
from savior to whiff.
You are going to get rich
in pursuit of one morning.
The first thing that comes to mind?
Bullshit. Do the work.
Everything frightens you.
You will not love the way your skin falls into it own lines.
The hardest thing? Unsticking your smug.
It will take great strength to sacrifice all of the pain
that never happened to you.