What used to be my everything
has now turned into what feels almost like a burden.
But I don't quit because of that small ounce of enjoyment I still get out of it. Whether or not it's actually enjoyment, I don't even know because I've been doing it for so long.
It feels routinely, nothing to like, nothing to dislike.
I just keep doing it with the hope
that my nearly extinguished flame of a passion for it becomes the raging fire it once was.
It's not like I hate it. I don't.
Hate is the last word I would use to describe it.
I still like it.
And now that I think about it, I still love it, really.
But it's not the same love I felt before. It's a different love, a love that's diminishing the flame I'm trying so desperately to keep alive.
I don't want to lose something that's been a part of me for so long,
but I'm too worried about wasting my time trying to hold onto feelings that haven't even left.
They didn't leave, they're just different.
I just don't love it the same.
It's not the way I loved it 9 years ago when I first started.
The way I loved it 5 years ago when I decided it would be my life.
But what used to be, "I want to do this for the rest of my life!"
turned into, "Do I even like this enough to do it for the rest of my life?"
out of nowhere.
Conflicted by ... sadness? Confusion? Anger?
I sit alone
at my piano
wondering
do I keep writing this song?
Comments
I also feel like this! I’ve been playing viola for years and this poem perfectly captures this feeling. Keep writing!
Thank you!! :)
This is incredibly real. I've been play piano since I was around three or four years old and omg its crazy how well this describes that feeling. Good work!
Thank you!! It’s so comforting to hear other musicians, especially pianists, feel the same way!!
of course! Music is really fun but it burns people out so quickly lol
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