Last year: 

A girl learning how to draw

Holding the pencil,

Covering up the flaws. 

 

This year: 

A girl telling a story, 

Rewriting the script,

Her mind a lab'ratory. 

 

Last year: 

A girl chasing her dreams, 

Though life gets in the way

Pulls apart at the seams. 

 

This year: 

A week from hell, 

But looking at her, 

Who could tell? 

With renewed vigor, 

And vim,

And belief, 

She has renew'd purpose, 

Drawing out her motif. 

 

For when life is good, 

Or bad,

Or both, 

You don't sit around, 

Look down, 

And loaf. 

 

You take what you can, 

You make it great. 

It's all in your hands. 

There is no fate.