And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake me up in the middle of the night,
Just to hear them say,
"You can't do it throughout your life — yeah!"

But I've done it,
Yes, I've done it in time,
Life gave me lime,
I made a brine.

Now I'll add my favourite flavours,
Serve a lemonade to my critics,
I'll smile as they'll only admire me,
I'll stick to my roots and credit my parents.

But I'll not let success get onto my nerves,
My responses I'll keep terse,
Lengthier will be the poems,
Elaborate my every verse.

Some people get jealous,
A few people feel,
Others feel,
Positive.

Once upon a time
There was a passion,
Like burning fire,
Boiling water,
Saturated with desire.
The thirst of needing to be seen,
To be heard,
To be free as a soaring bird
Was unquenchable and
Unquestionable.

It was so clear
It ruled out the anxiety
And the fear
Of being judged
Being wrong
And being crushed.

Now that passion has burned out,
Drained,
Pale;
What is left is the anxiety
The possibility
To fail.