The world is sick of underachievers.
Slackers who do the bare minimum to get by
And mooch off of others.
They just serve as roadblocks in a traffic jam,
People who aimlessly drive, following the flow of traffic.
Whether they are cruising or venting,
They are in the way of the goal oriented,
The people who have purpose and places to be.
It's those that drive slowly on the highway who should
Be cast to the back roads,
To another state,
To another country.
Anywhere I'm not.
But in that critical moment,
The one that decides your fate between punctuality and tardiness is where they appear most.
If only the purposeful drove monster trucks,
We could get to our destination without worry.
Just crush the weak and useless, like bugs.
5/28/2002
