I feel like Ray Charles,

At a very large piano,

Blind I am playing here,

Each key a different decision,

Each song a different path,

No path is correct,

But half are wrong,

Do I dare choose,

At a random note,

Or plan out history,

That might live well,

Or might curve into,

My truly dreadful demise,

So many written songs,

Given by fooled grownups,

I could play lovely,

But I could play,

Play with my life,

Make up a song,

That could be lovelier,

Than the loveliest song,

Like a dream can,

Can be a story,

Of a dreamy boy,

Who wrote this note.