Art is
A source of joy,
A way to vent,
A possible career to me.
I hope I can become something
In this beautiful,
Winding,
Emotional world.
What if my priorities are misguided?
What if I never make it?
What if this will ruin my every chance?
This is important enough.
My main audience is me.
And if it fails?
Who cares.
Old poem from 7th grade