My mother once told me I was incredible
She smiled at me, and told me to follow my dreams
But yesterday night, while she, herself was dreaming, started whispering, "When will my daughter satisfy me? When will she be good enough?"

Rage rising above my head
Staring at my paper
Try try try over again
Underneath the frustration I know this
Which way to go, I don’t know

Parents are loving
Questionable sometimes
Reel you into happiness when you are sad
See when you need help
Tell you to always be yourself

The screams and shouts
The running and sprinting
The rumors and secrets
The whispers and murmurs
The dread of knowing your day isn't done just quite yet
The popular kids; and the nerds
The shy kids; and the loud
It all happens in passing period