A daydream with no progress,
Now that's what I call hipster,
A dream you think through the day,
But doesn't make your hands get dirty,
Or make your brain strain,
Or make you push and climb,
Just a soft billowing breeze that flutters in your mind,
Passing gently by your eyes but never to be touched,
Never to be reached,
Cause God forbid you take off your beanie,
You slip out of your fashionable combat boots,
And into some steel toes,
And dig with your nails into the soil of Earth,
Until they rot brown and your brow sweats,
And your scarf unravels,
And your Canon Powershot lens is cracked,
A day dreams so much prettier isn't it?
Then actually doing anything?