The Pretence Of Success Poem by Samah Khan

Failure does not bode well with me;
The taste is like delving into a cup of the much needed
Morning coffee-and ending up with raw beans in your mouth.
But yet I awaken from divine slumber
And walk out into the world looking my best
Yet feeling my worst.
Sometimes I pray I could imitate what the world sees
And what I feel-them being the complete polar opposite of each other
Doesn't help my cause much-
But I still wake up to the call of the sun
With the pretence of success masking my failure,
Hoping it does not become manifest
In the times my voice breaks when I laugh.

I spend my time in the company of people who seem equally desolate,
Comforting them through mutual understanding of pain.
To them I am what they are not: satisfied with my position in life,
Accepting what has been given with open arms
But yet when the actual test arrives, it is them who boast success
While my comforting self remembers that while it spent its time trying
to ease the pain of other's, it forgot to ease its own.
The pretence of success is no match for good old failure
And I do not pretend any longer, but declare to all who will not shut
their ears to me, I declare:
I am a failure.
I am a failure.