Poem: Why Not Both?

A poem about the old daze

I remember sitting in a room of young
working people, and I didn’t have a job,
so I thought they were awful.

You see, I had a purpose, and my
personality was completely separate
from what I was being paid to do

(and not just because I wasn’t being paid).
They must have been perplexed by me. I
was a young person at the time too. Broke.

And idealistic. Now I’m only one of those
things most of the time, though sometimes,
for fun, I can still do both.