I wanted to be gifted
But even if the stars shifted
I wouldn't even be a contender
Feels like I'm more of a pretender
He was smart, but never used it
He was given the world but abused it
I never got the chance
To advance
I failed at every step
I felt like a loser, yep
Still, I strived
Even the universe seemed contrived
I won by some miracle in the end
Earning the right to blend
The right to try
To be more than that shy-
Inept strange kid
The one that I had hid
But heavy fire burns itself out
As I found later with no doubt
I reached for the stars
Should have set lower bars
Got stuck on the moon
Singing the same tune
I won, but at what cost
Now dejected, 'lazy', lost
It's the things that people don't say
Before and after the fray
Gifted or not, this poem so brilliantly exemplifies alienation. Top marks, Ezra!
Melancholy poem. A realisation that " Feels like I'm more of a pretender " is a true statement only if one is ready to mend his ways. And every success counts, small or big… well done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes too much gifts and talents can be a real family burden too... a very lovely poem...