Second place doesn’t really hurt as much
When that’s all you’ve ever known
Second to be born
Second to be considered
Second to be called on
Second to be loved
First chair? Not likely, you don’t belong there
And don’t fool yourself, they never really loved you first
You’re second through and through
And maybe that’s why the spotlight scares you
You’ve never known what it feels like to own one
Silver may be prettier than gold
But that doesn’t change the fact that your story never gets told
One of the first poems I ever wrote, I edited a little bit but decided not to change too much from the first draft.