People would always tell me how I'm gifted. All their expectations always being lifted.
Snarky remarks on how I'm to smart. Compliments that make me feel that a part of me is lamented.
I can feel myself growing dull.
Soon fragile just like a small foal. Always stumbling and stumbling forwards, which was never their plan.
With each award I always get, I can't help but pray this doesn't happen to the next of kin. People saying 'I knew you would win'. In due time they might understand that us gifted people; we bleed.
But still getting made fun of for every B I get. I wish people would understand and just settle for less.
Maybe one day I can go to a far away land. With no expectations and beaches filled with sand. But I know that will never happen, that it will never make its call.
Because.
That is the price of being gifted after all.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts
PoetryBasically, I post poetry. I would usually make the poem on a photo or on what I'm thinking about.
