you heard one of them give an answer to which everyone was applauding
so you quietly put your paper back in your pocket
and sat down, your previous energy dissipating into yet another nothing.
your face devoid of its real smile, because now in place of it
sat a plastered curve. a curve that couldn't quite reach the end
of your eyes.
Your eyes which murmured soft words to the pillow later at night.

Today I have that paper in my hands and I find myself helpless
against lost potential and lost time.
I can't even fight that.
I also can't fight the times you just let others take credit for your gifts to the world.

I also can't fight these tears that come to the verge
to never spill
like you never stood
for yourself or me.