OK, so I have been called a rebel, a criminal, a reprobate, a bad boy, a nonconformist, an iconoclast, and a douchebag, and in some ways all of them are true. (except maybe the douchebag one, I dunno)
But I never really took to being told what to do.
My brother was a Marine, and while I thought that was cool, I knew that would NEVER be for me. They would have told me to make my bed, and I would have said, "Why?, I'm only gonna get in it again in a few hours." I'm sure that would have gone over like a fart in church.
My point being that I never really gave a damn for instruction, or rigid discipline. I used to joke that I got thrown out of Boy Scouts for eating a Brownie, but the truth is I left because I did not like all the rules.
I hate rules. I have always colored outside the lines, and I always will.
If I never cross the line, how in the Hell am I supposed to know where it is?
Anyway, that brings us to this poem...
or so the old saw goes,
some folks live their entire lives
without knowing where the road goes.
Do not tell me that I can’t
because I will have to prove you wrong.
You have no business telling me
how to sing my song.
I am the captain of my own fate.
I go which way I will.
Sometime I want to sleep in Rome
and wake up in Brazil
I’ve made mistake, I know its true,
and I will make some more.
But they will be my own mistakes,
not the same ones I’ve made before
You say no I can’t, I say yes I can.
I will kill myself trying.
For living without stretching my wings
is another kind of dying.
Progress is made by the unsatisfied;
the complacent sit safe and sound
I cannot stop to explain myself -
for I am horizon bound.