Trajectory

Night after night the dream would come again
Of the tin men who want me to become like them
They gift me instructions as to my functions
And how to operate throughout my lifespan

At ten I am to make many friends
At twenty pursue wealth aplenty
At thirty a life partner must be a certainty
At forty revel in my offspring’s glory–

Every morn I’d wake from my slumber
Only to lumber towards the mirror
And realize I had idolized
Someone else’s trajectory

For what has become of me?
Picky who I associate with
Enough money to live comfortably
But without spouse or kids

The tin men want me to live a blueprint
That I badly wanted but was never meant
Through choices and varying motivations
Side explorations and heeding different voices

So the blueprint remains a trinket
When my steampunk dreams seemed legit
Sometimes revisited like an old home
Whenever a tin man’s idle heart absently roams