I promised to reach the stars

make a life for myself

do something extraordinary.

Soon I fell behind

picked off dreams like flower petals

gave into “more practical” belief.

Make a living, make a killing

do what they all expect you to

and choke down big dreams.

When asked for the future

I do as they like

spin tails of practicality

but when alone at night

music on, guitar in hand

I practice for my dreams, my passion.

They can try and make me

try and break me, control me

mold me into another model citizen.

But they’ll never succeed

they’ll never catch me

just like those ceiling balloons.