Music is what I aspire for me
It was and still is
My only hope to be
An artist sings in bliss
But no I can’t
Father is the root of my struggles
In life of my own
Dictator he is of the hustle and bustle
To which in due time my poor fate shall reckon
I must obey
Mother is an aid for my pain
For she provides all the enlivening supports
Forever is not enough to thank her again and again
For she is my light that gives heartwarming comforts
I must decide
Is it selfish to decide on my own?
Does it make myself a disgrace and impolite?
Is it right to do what my heart tells wrong?
Does it build my moral as a son if I don’t invoke my appetite?
Help, I am confused