If passion could be measured in terms of height, my infatuation with the color red alone would send me skyrocketing over the heads of anyone who's ever asked me, "How's the weather down there?"
I'm Tall 
If ambition could be shown in a physical sense, I would never again need to use a step ladder to reach the top shelf of my bookcase, considering my drive to make something of myself and make something of the way I affect those around me, would cause even the Eiffel tower to pale in comparison.
I'm Tall
If my experiences were lines up to form a movie, mine would be just as long as anyone else's just as captivating (and hopefully presented as a musical), but my height, or the fact that my feet don't touch the floor when I sit in a school desk, will not be related.
I'm Tall
If my laugh was a rope, it would stretch to the stars and back, it's so loud, and i'm told "quiet down" as if they are asking me to make myself smaller than I already am physically.
I'm Tall
If my enthusiasm was a body of water, it would be the pacific ocean, rising (and sometimes falling) like the tides, but extending far and wide. The only bounds are the countries surrounding it and they tell it to “calm down.” To shrink its waves until it's the most convenient size for everyone but the one that should matter, the powerful swirling ocean.
I Am Not Tall
I Am Small
And the doorways into new opportunities seem much too highly set. And the ceiling seems as though it's so tall it can only end up falling and crushing me. And the world seems so much  heavier on my shoulders with the realization that i’m the human representation of pluto.
But somehow in repeating “I’m Tall. I’m Tall. I’m Tall.” I’ve managed to not see myself as a vulnerable, insignificant speck in the vast unnerving universe.
I Am Tall.