When I was little, I wanted to be an artist.

My grandmother said to be more realistic.

So I decided I wanted to be a scientist.

That was more realistic.

I wanted to go to the best school.

But that wasn't realistic.

We were poor; even with scholarships I could never afford it.

It just wasn't realistic.

My grades were excellent; I could probably get a scholarship for a good state school.

That was more realistic.

But then Brian moved in, and my life turned upside down.

Nothing was realistic.

I let my grades slip. It might've been my fault.

Is that realistic?

No more scholarships for me; to community college I go.

That's more realistic.

Work, school, life; I tried to figure it all out myself;

But was that realistic?

Now I'm a failure with no hope at all.

Hope isn't realistic.