From acing to failing,
From rising to falling,
I'm lost in the swirl
Of where I've ended up.
From the peak of success
To the weight of regret,
From the center of cheers
To feeling silenced instead.
I miss the spotlight,
The thrill of feeling bright.
I miss my friends,
When everything felt right.
What I long for the most
Is the joy in my craft—
To feel the spark again
And be good at it, at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem