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.”