Be Professional

Isn’t this my room?
So why do I cater
To who might see it
When they visit later?
Won’t I spend most of my time here alone?
Why do I hide in my own, my own?
I’ll have a kid’s foolishness decking my walls.
Either I’m stuck and refuse to advance
Or nobody resurrects their old romance
As the years creep up and urge us to speed
So we blindly whip past that in which we staked value,
Carelessly mumbling that we will return
At a later date, once we’re established
And earned our freedom – to throw dinner parties
For guests we feel we have to appease
To stay on good terms with those in the field
We’re entrenched in for habit or common good
While the backs of our minds still swirl with choices
We wanted to make; but we did what we should
According to what older, wiser deemed prudent
Judging by standards brewed in their time,
Standards that change with society’s bend.

12/7/11