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eva May 29
The children branded Gifted at the ripe age of eight,
Will grow up carrying the crippling weight
Of an expectation stamped on them before they had thought
Of who they wanted to be, who they were and were not
So when the brain reaches limit of what they're capable of
They will think they’ve destroyed all that was worthy of love
And hide from the sharp gaze of Expection’s eyes
Would rather cease than hear the collective parent’s sighs
The Gifted children will never meet authority’s plans
And instead struggle in silence, head in their hands
Believing the sermon that their knowledge is essential
When they crash, they all say, “She had so much potential.”
eva May 29
I wish I could change myself to be
A person you haven’t touched
Or maybe I’d change myself to
A person who you’d find enough
love just doesn't give up
eva May 29

I want you to be here so badly
But I have no clue what I'd say
How can you bring back art
That you accidentally threw away?
I should have framed you in gold
I should've hung you on my wall
I should've put you in my gallery;
You're prettier than them all
And if this is it, if you're gone
Just know that you're not a waste
And my art museum will always have
A blank and empty space

— The End —