What Can I Do?

I'm an African boy, full of dreams and hopes, The place I'm from, I hardly recall it home. My spirit and mind are torn, every way to succeed feels gone, I'm studying harder, desperately trying to keep up my grades. "They are something that matters," "Education is the only way to succeed," our headmaster would say. And from then, I'm not free anymore. I can't use my talents, I can't think of anything else, other than books. I wonder if I will finish college, And find a good job, doctor—my lifetime dream, Or will college finish me, Tear me apart, and leave me to shame? I dream of a nice life, A warm home, beautiful kids, a beautiful wife, Beautiful cars, a beautiful home, United in Christ, and echoes of happiness all over. But sometimes I wonder, "Am I dreaming? Am I okay?" 'Cause I'm scared, I'm scared to fail this life, I'm scared to fail, I'm terrified to miss the opportunity. I look to my parents, they age so fast. "What can I do?" I'd ask myself. "Do something, Frank," I'd tell myself, But I can't steal, I can't give them the good life they deserve. Why do I feel like I won't make it in time? What if I make it too late? What if I'm so obsessed with the future That I forget to live the present? What if I'm right? What if I should start working part-time? What if I shouldn't be happy for anything, Carving all my efforts, to make sure, They breed the success I'm visualizing? I would look at couples, Walking alongside the roads, Sitting at fancy restaurants, Smiling at this life, while I'm burdened with stress, Wondering if this life is the best I can live. But I trust in the Lord, Jesus Christ, my maker, My destiny writer. I believe I'm special, smart, and it's okay To be the way I am. So, I will keep the smile, As a surplus, a replacement For any day, I shall fall sick of agony Or sadness, due to obsession with this life. What's life anyway, If I can't feel, I can't enjoy every moment? This is the reason I chose poetry, Because I'm alive in my fantasy world.