The Wannabe Blues
Richard
Track 1
Reconstruct the poem by dragging each line into its correct position. Your goal is to reassemble the original poem as accurately as possible. As you move the lines, you'll see whether your arrangement is correct, helping you explore the poem's flow and meaning. Take your time, enjoy the process, and discover how the poet's words come together to create something truly beautiful.
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Maybe it's not too late, to pick a single flame,
I'm a wannabe, a coulda-shoulda-wouldabin,
A coulda-shoulda-wouldabin story.
Wannabe a painter, splash my colours loud.
The "what ifs" and "should haves" echo in my head,
One dream, one focus, a chance to finally see,
I'm just a wannabe, that's all I'll ever be,
The years keep rolling by, the mirror shows the cost,
Wannabe a rockstar, singing to the crowd,
Of chasing dreams in fragments, a life forever lost.
Flipped through magazines, a million faces stared,
Fan the embers gently, whisper a new name.
Chasing shadows, grasping air, a jack of all trades, master of nowhere.
To pick just one, felt like a cage, a life half-lived, you see.
Shouldabin a scholar, top of the class,
Wouldabin an athlete, fast as the wind,
So many paths, so many doors, now I'm lost on empty shores.
But the fear of failure held me down, whispered silent shrouds.
So I chased them all, a butterfly with wings of maybe.
Wannabe a writer, with words that take you far,
Couldabin a doctor, studied all those nights,
Doctors, lawyers, astronauts, dreams I couldn't bear.
But I'm a wannabe of everything, ending up with nothing but a scar.
A symphony of choices, a melody of dread.
If the wannabe can become who they're really meant to be.
Procrastination let it all pass, comfort food became my only win.
Dreams as big as the sky, ambitions piled up high,
Trying to be everything, ending up with nothing.