The Sophomores Poem by Raj Dronamraju

The second time around I felt revived, revitalized
With a second chance in hand, I moved much slower
Looking at every angle
And the potential for hating myself

From the moment she fell in love with destruction, I was born again
But kept up with what was learned from past lives
Through chopped up single cell forbearers
Fed and then absorbed by folks of our generation

I thought I had lost everything because of you
This second chance is begged for, is paid for
Is delivered courtesy of consistency incorporated
I'll be keeping a share of this for future selves

It's now covered with cheap sentimentality
The kind that doesn't acknowledge competition
The kind that doesn't allow any back talk
The kind that lets you build your own superman
No matter how many times it takes to get it right