My mother always told me
I can be who I want to be
When it's time to take my daydreams
and turn them into reality
From the babbling blank drools
that hold my future,
to the passion that burns
just like empty calories.
What kind of life will I lead
Will I lead or will I follow
Who is the face that stares and
glares through the fountain reflection
only waiting to be freed

But sweet darling,
never stop questioning
if your aspirations will leave you
wrong and hollow or even if
you sulk, filled with sorrow.
But please, dear being, remember
I will be who I will be
and I choose to be happy