July 28th, 2021
I was always praised as the brilliant child
Raised as the gifted one
And it ruined me.
I regret being called a smart kid- a special one-
These attributes wrongly attributed as internal
And now I have to unravel that and wonder if I've ever felt in control
Of my life.
You see, a 'gifted child' does not have to work.
We're told that we've reached the pinnacle with A+s and Golden Stars and Plaques of shimmering stones and accolades mirroring the great's
But never told why: that we were great.
That we worked hard.
Being raised on cobblestones of miracles they reached a place of no desire because the world rested at their feet and the sky was too near-
Claustrophobic-
So we had no motivation.
It's such an interesting image: that the sky would be so near-
Such a delusional illusion made by people who said they love us-
Clearly, they adore us too much
Since they never told us that we were not great.
That we knew nothing. That we could do nothing.
And then point to the east horizon, to the star to the north and a bit leftwards, and tell us,
"That is who you are".
Chasing an ideal is where motivation will thrive
Because we would be raised knowing the persons besides us contribute to the cobbled road
And that room for growth powers us forth.
Carry on feeding them glory and they will never
Be one of the greats.
YOU ARE READING
Solace (Poetry Book 3)
PoetryRandom thoughts from different moments on various things for infinite reasons. This is my third book of poetry after the first "Poems of the Atmos;" and second "Ambience". Unless mentioned otherwise, none of the photos are mine. The book cover was m...
