A rainbow,
Spectrum of colours,
One for each emotion,
Each I hold close,
Cherish,
A lovehate relationship.
I cannot avoid,
The downs of the ride,
Or fun will be lost.
I go up high,
Only to come down,
To be happy,
Eventually to be sad.
A painful aftermath,
That no one wants.
Inevitable,
I grit my teeth,
Trudge through it,
To see a better,
Tomorrow.
The fear of repetition,
Has never hit me harder,
Never been realer.
Seeking originality,
But I can't find it.
The fear of being replaced,
Of being surpassed,
Followed by,
The salt of intense jealousy,
The pours over,
The stubborn wound,
That never wants to heal.
Salted wounds,
Hurt so much more,
A reminder,
That I'm still,
Sensitive to myself,
Still someone,
Still human.
Turning around,
A hundred eighty degrees.
A paradigm shift,
A new beginning,
Leaving behind,
The old parts of me,
That is now outdated,
No longer relevant.
It's time to move on,
To blend,
Into the sea of monotonous.
Originality,
Now comes from,
Plagiarism.
Your own colours,
No longer as vibrant,
No longer as unique.
Being a rainbow,
Of specialty,
Is looked up to.
But why,
Are we giving up glory,
To fit in?
The harsh reality,
Of criticism,
That strips down your happiness,
That darkens your skies,
It hurts so bad,
It's no longer fresh,
A new feeling.
You get used to it,
But the pain never numbs.
The torture,
Of being special.
