I was told I could be good at anything not warned it meant average at everything People grow up, may be I grew down on every chessboard but as a pawn Being born a cluster of potential meant so much more for me to waste The rising star they all looked up to who fell shooting down in a haste There were so many boats to ride I put my feet in all but heart in none Shuffling again and again to find the same Jack of all trades, master of none. I had this picture perfect idea of me painted gold with every medal I landed every teacher and fortune teller so sure a future set in stone waiting to be handed I was my full-marks and my first prizes my monitor badges and assembly applauses my jumping years and too good for my peers my school songs and their genuine cheers my dance rehearsals, the needles and threads my poems and speeches turning heads my raising hands and stunned teachers my voice familiar with the speakers. Now I am this collage of embarrassments everyday reminded to make amendments...