*My thoughts Part one* –

We raise our children in silk-lined dreams,
With comfort, ease, and golden gleams.
We teach them: “Chase your fire, your art,
Let passion guide your fearless heart.”

But passion—wild and raw and real—
Comes dressed in wounds it won’t conceal.
It asks for less, yet more than gold—
A spine of steel, a soul grown bold.

What if they dream of changing laws,
But flinch at crowds and dirty floors?
What if their hearts beat for the poor,
But shudder at the camp’s cracked door?

Will they choose the life they’ve always known—
Of scented sheets and marble stone?
Or leap into the mess and flame,
Where passion burns and none seek fame?

So teach them not just how to fly,
But how to fall and still ask why.
Not just to dream—but walk the land,
With blistered feet and outstretched hand.

Let them choose—not ease or strife,
But the truth within a purposeed life.
A path that blends both grace and grit—
A world not made, but made to fit.

Non poetic version

We are raising our kids to chase their passion, with all the luxuries in the world..
But chasing passion comes at a cost, the cost of living almost with nothing, way below your means, instability is the other cost. What if they love being a social worker but do not know how to live in a UN Camp filled with untidyness.. What if they chose to be a politician but they do not know how to walk into masses in all the social strata?
My question is what must they choose, a life they were taught to live or the passion they were taught to choose?