Where is the pianist in me
Where is the overly-enthusiastic musician
Who'd pick up any lyrics
And make it into a song.

Where did I lose my words
Where did I lose my will to write
Where did I lose my courage
To cry my heart out on a piece of paper
And bleed my fingers on a guitar-string.

Where did I lose my random scribbles
Where did I lose my unabashed thoughts
Which I would often lash out on empty canvases.

When did my creative block
Turn me into a mechanical machine
And make me forget that
My right brain works better than the left one.

Where did I lose my faith
In this ****** human race
Where did I lose my friends
My family
And all those who loved me?

Where did I lose my
Optimism
and when did I lose myself
To anxieties and the blues?

Is this real or a dream?

Where did I lose my courage to live?
Can someone find it for me?

When he was four,
he tried to write a poem
and named it "Happy"
because he was happy.
He had a new toy
and new paints.

When he was nine,
he tried to write another
and named it "Confused"
because that's what he was.
He had questions about his body,
but couldn't find the answers.

When he was thirteen,
he wrote another
and named it "Scared"
because that's how he felt.
His body was changing
and he didn't like it.

When he was Fifteen,
he wrote a different poem
and named it "Knowledge"
because that's what he gained.
He knew what was wrong,
so he told them his new name.

When he was eighteen,
he wrote a new one
and named it "Ghost"
because that's what he was.
Nobody respected him,
his pronouns were never heard.

So when he turned twenty,
he wrote his final poem
and named it "Boy"
because that's what he always was.
He taped it to his door
and danced from his ceiling fan.