poem

"Do you have a passion for this anymore?"

"I hate to see you waste your money."

but I'm trudging forward none the less.

I will succeed in having the paper that says I finished.

it's just it seems what I have to say isn't reaching you right

I am the type to always have a project

there they are, stacked up on the tables

so many projects to create

I feel like in don't belong now.

things I had previously been told seem to be wrong

I just want to create what I want

but there seem to be so many things

so many little hoops to jump through

I'm just standing on the mat

I don't regret my choices.

I can't change the past

but I'm sick and tired

of being told to hold off

maybe something else when there's already so much piled up