Although poor with no control,

Nor significant influence to this world,

I live and breathe to create and dream,

The days when I will live my theme,

The pitches and the octaves,

To the harmonics I adopted,

Communicating and illuminating,

A souls crevices to the audience,

Optimistic or unrealistic,

My future is not quite decided,

But I still live and breathe,

For I one day will live my theme.

This poem is about: 


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