Photo by Mervyn Chan on Unsplash

I can paint the scenery of the merging of our senses

But I am told I am useless because I do not want to calculate complex mathematics

I can coerce the strings of a guitar to play the songs of the birds above

But I am told I’m not worth it because I do not want to mix chemicals in a lab

I can combine words to explode feelings on a sheet of paper

But I am told I’m a disgrace because I do not win debates

I can create, out of twigs, elegant fabrics for the fancy to wear to their elite balls

But the fancy do not fancy my passion for creating what is not money or gold

I can speak in different tones and act different realities and scenes to motivate and educate

But I am told it’s only because I could not get good grades

I see the world in a different light

I have a different pair of eyes

I can do what I love to do without fault

But they tell me,

everyday…

…that I will never soar.

Photo by Taelynn Christopher on Unsplash

Photo by Himesh Kumar Behera on Unsplash

Xx,

Stace