Now what?

You make things so hard for me,
Some days you are just so close,
Other days you are just like everybody else,
I adore you a great deal,
But I'm just so sick of trying,
It's always me disappointing you than making you proud.

It's not that I do not understand your theories,
It's just that I'm too tired to practice it,
Whenever that happens you tell me to leave,
So what if I want to take my own sweet time to learn,
I'm just a man with two hands and feet,
I get tired too,
Just like you.

You keep asking me why,
You demand for an explanation for every failing attempt,
You said I do not require your approval,
But you sure as hell act like one,
It's not that I don't have proper support to sing all ten notes,
In fact, I can sing 20 or more,
But do you really want to know why I cannot?

It's the thought of worrying whether each note suits your liking,
Whether it is with enough support as required by you,
Is it with enough melody to that one particular note as how you like to hear,
Your thoughts,
Your liking,
Your comments,
Your decisions,
That's what's been affecting me lately.

So don't tell me I don't need your approval,
Because I've been worrying,
And pushing myself hard for your demands,
Trying to fulfill each and every of your command,
Learning not to say no to whatever you want,
In hope to get your nods more than you disapprove,
I'm just doing what I thought you would want to see,
Now I don't know what am I doing,
Nor what you would want to see,
So tell me how can I even sing a single note without knowing its purpose or path?