Jack of All Trades, Master of None

Fallen Angel

There's this persistent question in my head.

"What are you good at?"

To which I answer self-deprecatingly,

"Uhhh... mediocrity?"

Unfortunately, I excel at being average in everything

Drawing, writing, reading, living

You name it, I've tried it all.

At some point, it becomes exhausting

Not belonging in the polars,

Just there, away from the extremes.

Always on the middle of the spectrum

Not good enough to excel, nor bad enough to fail

"Jack of all trades, master of none

But better a master of none than a master of one."

It was somehow comforting, or so I tell myself

Knowing that I cannot be categorized, not identified

I'm never simply something.

I am everything all at once.

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