It just won’t work, it can’t be done, you’re nothing special, you’re just no one
There’re no new tricks for you old dog, fate has its plan, you’re just a cog,
Don’t let your dreams enter your goals, you’ll just be one of those lost souls
Just fit in, keep your head down, we’ll give you your job, life and town
Just ‘cos you think you don’t deserve to follow instructions what a nerve
You dress too weird, you think too much, your music’s loud, you’re out of touch
No good will ever come of it, conform, obey, behave, fit!
To all of those who aim for the sky
Losers that win, lemmings that fly
When people insist that it will not last
Many have said that in the past
But people flew, and ideas grew
Don’t doubt the power that’s inside you
shnazzy. hey is your name an alias then, or is lemming really your last name. i just figured it was real, but now im not sure. gave it a 9! ! almost 10, but i figure all of yours are a 10 in my book and i don't want to get you too happy with too many 10s rolling in.
come on, the lemmings......oops, sorry, thought i was at the match...... great stuff.... ....rachael
Wow. Awesome poem FL. Keep up this amazing work, it makes people like me remember who i am and what i belive in. x-x-x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When I clicked the title of this piece, I had imagined that I'd subsequently find myself here in your comment section going on about how I wouldn't call myself one (a Flying Lemming, that is) . But, after have read this? I'm thinking perhaps... just maybe.. I may fit the definition. That's kind of wonderful, sort of alarming, and, let's hope, rich in possibility (hmmm.. I think I might have just summarized my first forty years with that last sentence!) . Christine