Maybe there's a dancer in me,
But died because I stopped dancing in college.
Maybe there's a singer in me,
but died because I stopped singing the first time someone told me,
"You suck."
Maybe there's a writer in me,
but died because my day job drains all my energy,
I hardly have enough time to write again.
Maybe there's a fashion designer in me,
a chef, a teacher, a psychologist, an accountant,
but they all died because I got intimidated--
scared, even, to nurture them.
Or maybe they are all still here,
alive,
waiting,
hoping that one day, I muster the courage to let them out
I do, too, hope I can.
