I ace a test? I could always work harder.
I help with the charity? There's still people starving around the world.
I wrote the best story of my life? It's always lacking something.
I look the best I can? I still don't look like one of those girls on Vogue magazine.
Why can't I just be good at everything?
Is it really this hard to please everyone at once?
Will I ever be able to take a comment without wanting to pull my hair out?
Can I live with someone thinking something terrible about me?
All I want to do is make someone proud.
All I want to do is make myself proud.
After every little cry
I snap out of it, and try again.
I start with baby steps
And crash and burn.
I'm like that little spider.
Climbing up the water spout,
Down comes the rain
And washes me all out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem