In quiet libraries where dreams take flight,
A scholar's struggle in the dimming light,
Once a beacon of promise burning bright,
Now lost in shadows of doubt's endless night.
Each lecture missed, each assignment ignored,
Potential dimmed, passion slowly stored,
A heart heavy with burdens untold,
Feeling the weight of expectations unfold.
They feel the gaze of disappointed eyes,
Their own reflection a painful disguise,
As whispers echo of what could have been,
Lost in the void where regrets begin.
To feel they're letting everyone down,
Their own worst critic in the academic town,
Yet in the silence, a flicker remains,
A spark of hope amid relentless strains.
For wasted talents can find their way,
In second chances, a new dawn's ray,
To rise from ashes, renewed and strong,
Proving resilience was there all along.
So let them know it's never too late,
To rewrite the tale, to change their fate,
With support and belief, they'll come around,
From feeling lost, to being found.
YOU ARE READING
This house was never a home
PoesíaThis place was never home, The things that lie in it was memorizing some a taunting memory other pleasant some not
