I thought I might be a musician
Mom couldn’t afford my lessons
My eyesight wasn’t great
I couldn’t read notes fast enough
Practicing annoyed the family
I only managed last chair, 2nd violins
              But still
I got to play in High School concerts
In shiny dresses with glitter in my hair
              However
I haven’t held a violin in years
I loaned mine to a Bluegrass band
The leader died - and it was gone

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

I thought I might become a dancer
But my fingers can not touch the floor
I couldn’t kick much higher than my waist
Choreography was hard for me to learn
I had the stamina if not the skill
My partner wanted someone else
                But still
I danced on stage in a college play
And Morris Danced at the Old Globe Theatre
                However
I’ve forgotten how to keep the beat
And all the dance floor moves I made
I’m too self conscious now to try

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

I fancied I could be a singer
I knew the words to all the songs
And I could keep the melody in tune
But I had a voice with no vibrato
And the quality was thin
My range was very limited
              But still
I sang Blueberry Hill at a talent show
In a black lame’ dress and surprised a few
              However
I couldn’t get the hang of harmony
And found I fit best in a choir
My family wouldn’t hear my solos

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I thought that I was born an actress
I practically got that one right
I had a lead in an Ibsen play
And toured the state with Macbeth
But Hollywood was one big casting couch
And I could see no way around it
          But still
I got to be on TV  shows
Winning games and merchandise
          However
I sold the Firebird Convertible I won
I needed rent money more than a car
And rules allow you only three shows in a lifetime

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

I always thought I was a poet
I started young and never stopped
But family ignored and scoffed
Then I got trapped inside my mirror
And only wrote when all was beak
Somebody said my stuff was dreary
          But still
I stumbled on the HP website
And found a group who like the words I write
          However
When I read the others’ writes
I realize how limited my skills
And fight the need to run away and hide.
    ∞
It seems I dabbled in all the arts

Looking for the one that fit me
And finding they all needed alteration
And I never had the proper needle
  ∞  
Still, a moment in the sun
Is better than a lifetime in the shade
I had a taste of everything
Though the banquet was not mine.
ljm