You hear the laughter, tossed around
And can't help but wonder,
"Were they laughing at me?"
Snickers are thrown,
But why are they there?
We are stuck on the playing field
Stuck on the beam
Lights glare upon you
You're caught in the gaze
Waiting for the numbers
The judgment
Waiting for the ball to be thrown your way
So you can swing at it too,
Hoping you don't strike out,
But waiting for your place at the mound
So you can fit in
So you can feel less hurt
Less pain...
Putting pain on another
Less pain?
It's a game
A competition,
You're bending over backwards
And pulling tricks for them
Turning with grace and beauty
But you're expected not to fall from this thin bar
You cannot waver
They expect perfection
When perfection doesn't exist
They take your time, your money, your life
And finally your confidence
When you aren't given that perfect ten
There is no such thing as perfection
But still we tear ourselves apart when we do not achieve it
They criticize
they kill
And you can't help but cry
But you're expected to be strong
Expected to show no emotion
That goes against every part of human in you.
They say they'll change.
We say we'll change
But can we really ever change now?
Can we figure out that we can't be perfect, and that's okay?
Can we love each other
And forget the expectations we have engraved in our minds?
Can we really?
Think about it.
