A pollen nation

Mediocrity kills souls
drives inspiration from the heart,
allows contentment through disagreement
where the essence falls apart.
Some bees collect more pollen that others,
because ambition is there goal,
which pressures the thinkers that lay amongst them,
morals drained,
replaced by rigmarole.
True happiness can not be determined,
it is unique within all of us,
children, marriage,a Mercedes, detached,
what ever drives a bee to buzz.
Yet I made a stance
one morning at work,
I decided pollen meant nothing,
along with collars and shirts.
maybe i am sanctimonious,
an arrogant beast,
perhaps I will be wrong,
but at least i tried, do you see.
This whole fucking poem
maybe a rant and a rave,
forget the structure of its layout
things need to be said,
who am i to preach?
I am no one at all,
just a confused inner journey,
a fly on the wall,
alcoholic infused,
maybe?, but hey
we all need that buzz
didn't we say?
The point of this outburst,
I do have one you know,
is that they,
determine they as you please,
are extinguishing the cells inside of our heads,
they are making the thoughts we have, dead.
I know amongst the train tracks, and stations
we all have to depart,
there is a station for all of us,
and that is determined by you,
but i have not found my station,
so i continue,
on and on, on and on, on and on, on and on, on and on,on and on,
do you here the sound of the tracks?
when the on and on is silent,
I will have found, whatever racks,
the cerebral torment.
I need to find the station,
I hope you truly find yours.
This is not a lecture,
nor is it a lesson,
I just want the pollen to reach the end of the line,
where the true peace of mind,
allows the black and yellow tickets,
to be stamped.
Then,
I will relax
and unwind.