“Their
                                                Lives live like lyrics
                                                From popular radio songs
                                                Where the guy gets the girl,
                                                The girl is the prom queen,
                                                And they party the night away.
Success
                                                Seems to ****** those who fail
                                                Who go at such lengths to achieve,
                                                Yet what is it in its moment
                                                That feels so fine, taste so sweet;
                                                What does it truly mean?
Should
                                                I stand still, watching them gain
                                                Again and again, repetitious,
                                                Always comparing the scale,
                                                Watching their side stand strong
                                                As mine catapult into the air?
Not
                                                Many like them know the pain
                                                Of watching others win as I lose
                                                In this competition of competence,
                                                Where mine don’t measure
                                                To their minds complete.
Bring
                                                In the cars and the clothes
                                                As my cries contained creep
                                                From crevices and cracks
                                                That I hide through sinister smiles
                                                Conveying careless comparisons.
You
                                                Have more, you have it all,
                                                And in this picture, you stand tall
                                                As I shrink down to this little form:
                                                Invisible, unworthy, inadequate;
                                                To you:  I am worthless.
Pain
                                                Punches the powerless,
                                                Deepening bruises self-inflicted
                                                From this mind that cannot mend
                                                The idea that we are all different
                                                And success is deemed the same.
But
                                                I remain, sobbing still and silent,
                                                No action planned nor taken,
                                                Waiting for success to land in my palm,
                                                Focusing too much on the artists
                                                Instead of using such lyrics as
Motivation.”