They prayed for you to succeed in all you do

But what are you supposed to do

When all you do

Is make people proud?

There is nothing that speaks to you

And they speak to you

Saying, "Come on and make up your mind!"


Decide. Decide for us. Tell us who you are.

But that's not who you are, is it? 

Change. Change for us. We beg of you.

Are you really such a disappointment?


But you want to be a writer!

You want to speak to the world.

But you want to be a linguist!

You want to understand the words of millions. 

This is so unexpected! You told us you wanted to succeed.

You cannot possibly be successful as an artist,

Especially not a musician.


I am a test score. I am a number. I am an AP class. I am an honor. I am an award.

I can't be a musician.


But I want to be a musician.

I want to play for the world.

But I want to be an artist.

I want to understand the emotions of millions.

This is far from unexpected. I told you I wanted to succeed.

I can be an inspiration as an artist,

Especially as a musician.


I have decided. I have chosen.

My passions do not make me weak, yet whenever you ask me what I want 

I get weak in the knees and suddenly wish I could be 

Less of a disappointment.


They prayed for me to succeed, but it has become a curse

To be successful.

I wish I was a failure so it would be easier to drop everything 

To become a musician.

The one that is "Most Likely To Succeed"

Feels the least successful

Because of her one true joy.


When did it become taboo to be a musician?

This poem is about: 
My community
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