Flipped through magazines, a million faces stared,
Doctors, lawyers, astronauts, dreams I couldn't bear.
Dreams as big as the sky, ambitions piled up high,
To pick just one, felt like a cage, a life half-lived, you see.
So I chased them all, a butterfly with wings of maybe.
Wannabe a rockstar, singing to the crowd,
Wannabe a painter, splash my colours loud.
Wannabe a writer, with words that take you far,
But I'm a wannabe of everything, ending up with nothing but a scar.
I'm a wannabe, a coulda-shoulda-wouldabin,
Trying to be everything, ending up with nothing.
Couldabin a doctor, studied all those nights,
Shouldabin a scholar, top of the class,
Wouldabin an athlete, fast as the wind,
But the fear of failure held me down, whispered silent shrouds.
Procrastination let it all pass, comfort food became my only win.
The years keep rolling by, the mirror shows the cost,
Of chasing dreams in fragments, a life forever lost.
The "what ifs" and "should haves" echo in my head,
A symphony of choices, a melody of dread.
So many paths, so many doors, now I'm lost on empty shores.
Chasing shadows, grasping air, a jack of all trades, master of nowhere.
Maybe it's not too late, to pick a single flame,
Fan the embers gently, whisper a new name.
One dream, one focus, a chance to finally see,
If the wannabe can become who they're really meant to be.
I'm just a wannabe, that's all I'll ever be,
A coulda-shoulda-wouldabin story.