The doctors said I took the nutrients
The nurses said there was little hope
My brain and body will conquer this earthAn undergrown brain was doomed
And life's brutal hits will just fly on pastA couple months tops was all I had
The survivor — that was meThe lost cause — that was me
My mom said I started to walk so soon
My dad said I couldn't speak a word
My legs just wanted to run, not crawlIt happened years after my sister
My arms threw anything they could grabThe bathroom contained a similar story
The athlete — that was meThe disappointment — that was me
My eighth-grade teacher said I knew too much
My first-grade teacher said I could draw so well
I should be in calculus, not algebraMy lines and curves were special
I needed to prepare early for medical schoolShe got me a sketchbook for my sixth birthday
The future doctor — that was meThe artist — that was me
My principal said I had great potential
My chemistry teacher said I needed to focus
My grades clearly reflected that muchPut my books and coloring pencils away
Just stay on track for six more monthsMy doodles distracted me from covalent bonds
The valedictorian — that was meThe slacker — that was me
My friends said I've become the system
My test scores said I was intellectually stupid
All creativity and passion was goneFalling below the nationwide average
No longer did I think for myselfNever going to get into college
The robot — that was meThe failure — that was me
My obituary says I was a smart girl
My sales say I just broke the record
A loving sister, a talented starMillions of dollars for something I made
And yet I became a product of societyIf only my sister was here to see this
The gravestone — that is meThe success— that is me