They sold my viola
to buy one for her
and now, I’m left a fiddler
with no instrument
An instrument, however,
is instrumental in playing
an instrument.
All the things I could have done,
Would have done
formed a trio
joined an orchestra
even played on the street
but they’re not to blame,
even if they did sell my viola
the truth of the matter is
I don’t know who I am,
and I cling to the people around me
hoping they’ll define me,
and I won’t have to do the work.
But that stops today
the buck stops here
whatever the hell that means.
I’m going to find out what I am
what I love
what I do
where I go
what I want.
from life
from time
from everything
from everyone.