Excellence

It takes baby steps,
I started out crawling at the ground
Wanting to be different, so
I walked into dozens of
Audition rooms to distinguish
My playing from others.

Countless hours of rehearsing
Three measures at a time.
No, No—one measure at a time,
To get that perfect ring
To make them stop, and
Admire the intricate detail
I inlayed in every single note.
For those 5 minutes in that room will
Either have you craving more
Or turning you into a million
Pieces not worth hearing.

So how bad do I really want it?
For I want it bad enough that I will shove
Those doubts, insecurities, the three hour practices, and
The fear: losing
Outside so that the only thing
I am chanting inside is: success.

They say that excellence happens
When no one is looking—I
Tested that hypothesis and the results
Were terrifying. I did not
Come back the same.

I walked onto that stage knowing that
What I did with my cello in that room was
True excellence. Excellence is not a gift,
It is putting your soul into what you do best—
And my excellence is performing.

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

mrugg1567

I absolutely love this poem! You are an amazing writer. Your word choice and placement amaze me! Your straight forward but yet display deep thoughts, raw emotions in this piece. I really appreciate writers like you, please DONT EVER STOP WRITING! :)

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