"overachiever" poems
Life gets better - so much better that
you wouldn’t believe me if I told you
but before that happens
you’ll learn some lessons
some of them will be fun
others bitter medicine
swallow them though
they’ll make you strong
don’t beat yourself up so much
don’t put yourself down
you are actually pretty awesome
don’t obsess so much about being the best
the less you do that the better you’ll become
there is no such thing as “perfect”
but you will be excellent
you’ll be quite an overachiever – even when you don’t try!
You already know what you want to do
Not many 15 year olds have that kind of clarity!
You’re a rare, unique one – you’ll do exactly what you dream to do.
But there will be speed bumps
You’ll lose your way sometimes
and confused Gemini that you are-
you’ll always want both sides of everything
but you’ll figure that out eventually
you will never be as thin as you want to be
but you’ll learn to appreciate your body
just as it is
you’ll find you look beautiful when you smile
you’ll have a job you hate, and one that you love
you’ll do well in both-
much to other people’s envy
you’ll mostly have good bosses
you’ll never have a boyfriend, your marriage will be arranged
but you will find love-the love of a good man
who will stand by you even when things go wrong
he won’t at all be like the man of your dreams
but he will be exactly what you need-he’ll make you happy!
what I’m trying to tell you darling-
is that in ten years all the stuff you’re worrying about won’t matter
you’ll find new things to fuss over.
High school will be a distant land
That you would have left behind
The bullies who trouble you now
won’t be anywhere near
you’ll see that its okay
to be an introvert in an extraverted world
you’ll make a handful of super-friends
who you can trust and who care
and many acquaintances who don’t mind your company
but there will be some who you can’t trust
some who will take advantage of your kindness
ignore them and move on
there is more important stuff to take care of!
your writing will get better; you’ll be a super cook,
you’ll never like sports-stop trying to
its just not you!
in a few years time
you’ll be touching lives
and changing them for the better
you’ll be a teacher and a student
all at once
you’ll inspire and influence
so don’t give up on life yet-
don’t be so depressed
wear a smile and face the world
your life is going to be all set!
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
08.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 12:25 PM UTC
When my dark clouds rise
And dirt clods fly and I try
In sheer panic to replace
Rotten fruit with dull wax fruit
And wilted blossoms with
Plastic flowers and she thinks we
Will be on yet another short-lived
But cold cycle of tightrope and
Eggshell walking . . .
She comes home
With bags filled with
Apples green & red
Peppers yellow & green & red
Grapes green & purple
Plums yellow & purplish-red
Strawberries, peaches, tomatoes
Bananas & Greek salads.
This usually inspires me to go
Outside to make
For this setting a centrepiece of a
Vase filled with a variety of fresh
Picked wildflowers which brings
Her more joy than two dozen
Of the overrated overachiever rose.
At times this seems like
One of few bridges back
To a healthy & colourful world.
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
The perfect woman
is beautiful, of course
but not too beautiful,
( enough to be objectify-able
but not so much as to be threatening)
The perfect woman
has a voice and a mind
( that she wisely decides
to leave behind)
The perfect woman
should never be heard
( unless she becomes
a part of the herd)
The perfect woman
Is benign and blind
( to everyone's faults
except her own,
which also, btw, she ought to make known,
or god forbid, she'll be harkened a *****
How rude.....)
The perfect woman
Is coy and shy
(changing her demeanor
for a girl or a guy)
The perfect woman
Does nothing wrong (yeah right)
(and still doesn't get
why she can't belong)
The perfect woman
Knows her salad forks and plates
She encourages, she nourishes
She creates,
(she waits, she waits , she waits)
The perfect woman
is an overachiever
(but readily labeled
to be a deceiver)
The perfect woman
doesn't age
doesn't dream or rebel
Oh no, dear no....
none of that outrage
The perfect woman
can be a nymph and a nun
(knows how to not show
that she knows what is fun)
The perfect woman,
is curvy but thin
each angle defined
each strand refined
with a dazzling smile
and a glowing skin
(no matter how she gets it
It's that she gets it, she gets it.)
The perfect woman
Is strong and composed
But when she's patronized
She doesn't resist...
She carries her grace
on her well turned calf
and a delicate wrist
Till it's proper and unopposed
The perfect woman
is cruel to her daughter
and kind to her son
( as she knows what it means
to be a woman
even if she forgets
that she's also one...)
The perfect woman
doesn't want to be free
you see, it's simple
She's come to terms with the very concept
That it's her destiny
Sigh.
Let's say this, let's try....
Here's the gist
The perfect woman
is either every woman
or she doesn't exist.
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 9:22 PM UTC
I am an exoskeleton
Falling to pieces
Half alive yet entirely dead
Crumbling and translucent
Delicate, and drifts, fluttering
With a single breath from someone
Nearby
I could be crushed or mangled
By a strike of the hand or a flick of a finger
But because I am considered beautiful and strange
I am kept preserved
The world revolves around beauty and
Oddities and I become one of these
Studied anomalies, a curiosity, merely
Because I am not like them
I am Oriental
And Occidental
I am a Southerner
And a Northerner
I am malnourished
Yet well fed
I am thin and short
But my stature belies my power
I am a geek, nerd, braniac, dork, and overachiever
But remain a stupid, ignorant, procrastinator
I am certainly an curio; a
Living
Breathing
Walking
Oxymoron
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
Are you an overachiever?
They call us the cool kids.
But they look straight into our eyes with that stare.
That stare.
Smells like jealousy. But sympathy it is.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
I am not what you expected
A paradox in locomotion
A pendulum marking out its own time
An uninspired
Overachiever
Who refuses to write in words that sound similiar
And I too will leave you wanting
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 8:26 PM UTC
I love art, reality engraved
I love who creates, point-blank, like a gun
pressed against the temple of an overachiever
I seek the masses to watch my brain rain over your brilliant minds
Overwhelming and bloated, I feast on your works of art
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:02 AM UTC
don’t be defeatist
they say
as if i am not already worn to ruin
as if my fingers have not bled
all i am capable of bleeding
over their pristine paper sheets
just believe in yourself
they say
as if belief alone has ever offered salvation
as if i could will myself into being
as so many others wish they could with god
all you can do is your best
they say
but what if this is my best?
what if i am a husk of a human being
before i reach the age of 30
what if all my light was used up
in a voltage too high
squeezed out of me like a surge
in an electrical storm
what if my peak is behind me
looming above me like atlas
blotting out the sun
and leaving me to get swept up
in the wake of an overachiever
what if i am incapable of what you believed in me
because you pushed me too hard, for too long
because what you needed of me you needed immediately
you took me in your hands like goliath took his stone
wrung me out until i was bloodless
wrote out my worth and found your pen inkless before you’d reached the end
worth is relative
i say
now that i forced you to see your mistake
now that i am bedridden and useless and limp like a doll
now that my good days are not when i write 100 pages
but when i remember to drink water
when i remember to bathe and eat and wake before noon
as if all your pushing just wound me up like a coil
set me tight enough to regress unto the mean
i am doing my best
i say
now that i am barely capable of anything at all
now that the pedestal you put me on looked like a ledge
and you see it for what it was
now that it’s too late to walk back from the gallows
because i’ve already been hung like a ghost
and all i do these days is sway in the wind
i have been defeated
i say
but it was because you put me in the colosseum
with nothing but my tired self leaning on my tired self
and i lay on the floor waiting for the lions to come
i have been defeated
i say
to my defeatist self
because no one stays around to watch a losing fight.
Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
Some think that a well thought out compliment
Is the best gift to give me.
What they don't know is that it stifles me,
Buries me under yet another layer of self doubt,
Wondering yet again, “What if I fail them?”
What if I'm just a fake, a fraud?
What if suddenly I wasn't so amazing, so perfect?
I love to be treasured,
But what happens when everyone
Finds out I'm just fool's gold?
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 9:57 AM UTC
A life I never asked for
A life I'm forced to live
But a life nonetheless, right?
My scars scattered across my body
My eyes dull
My heart empty
My soul... soul less?
But a life nonetheless, right?
Father and mother dropped me off at my grandma's and never came back
She's had me since I was 3
She died working to support me
And now it's back to back in foster homes
Sometimes they're nice, other times...
very, very bad.
And on to the next I go
But a life nonetheless, right?
I'm at the top of my class and skipped ahead a year
But I'm called an overachiever
My intelligence isn't great anymore
Talent isn't great anymore
Just trying isn't great anymore
You just don't
You give up before anything can happen so they can never say 'you're not only letting others down, but yourself'
But a life nonetheless, right?
A life nonetheless.
A life.
This valued, precious life.
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 1:29 PM UTC
Who am I?
The answer is simply a sigh,
For I cannot give a reply,
Because I don't know I.
In school, I'm studious
With friends, I'm funny
Playing sports, I'm super
For relatives, I'm responsible
Musically, I'm marvelous
In front of parents, I'm plenty
All in all I'm an overachiever,
The title I've achieved by achieving.
Yes I get all the praises,
But that doesn't mean they're true.
For behind everyone's smiles,
I can see that their jealousy grew.
Little Miss Perfect,
Is what they call me,
Behind my back they stab,
I'm not blind you see?
Everyone's out for revenge,
They watch me like a hawk,
They wait for me to fail at something,
So for that thing they could mock.
I hate it
I'm tired of it
Can't you see?
I can't help it,
I'm just good at it,
Let me be.
I'm done with your plastic smiles,
I won't need you for a million miles.
I've finally just found me
I finally understand.
I don't need praises to guide me,
I won't need to hold anyone's hand.
I'm finally walking my own path.
Which is far from yours.
I'm finally walking my own path,
Not crawling on all fours.
I'm finally walking my own path,
I'm confident and free.
I'm finally walking my own path,
To MY destiny.
I no more need to ask Who Am I .
I've figure that part out.
Now everyone will know Who I Am
Without a doubt.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
(campfire poetry) WE ARE FIRE, WE COULD BE WATER
Flickering, fluttering, licking all it touches
Through another log it goes;
Spreading warmth, consuming everything,
Atoms and particles
Splitting and shifting in throes.
Fascination, energy at its purest.
An open flame, made malleable
By the hands that feed it or quench it.
There is no greater exhibition
Of something as infallible
In its awe-inspiring might
It is an eternal fight
Between that which is to be consumed
And that which is to be construed
Into something new, and different.
And so, we are one with the element
That awes us and terrifies us at the same time.
Our life is built
On the graveyard of our ancestry;
Our homes are powered
Through the sacrificial burning of past lives.
The food we eat is life from our perspective,
Yet it is death itself for all else.
The trees we cut down, the animals we torture,
The lives we take, the populations we uproot;
Our way of life is an endless reenactment
Of an ant being crushed by a boot
No life is sacred, all can be loot.
We are fire, we could be water;
A more gentle element than most.
A soothing, balming agency
Like the overachiever who dares not boast.
Both are harmful in excess,
Both can be destructive,
Only one is restorative.
And so, we choose to be fire;
We torch, burn, consume,
Until all that is around us
Transitions to its post-human state.
A lifeless mass of black and grey,
An emotionless, bottomless decay.
Alas, as these ruminations grind to a halt,
I find myself desperately looking for the fault
That has created the chasm that brought us here.
Where exactly did we go wrong?
How did we go from being masters of our fate
To this dark, ominous presence
That shrouds all there is?
The Renaissance, the Enlightenment,
and all the revolutions that were and will be;
The great men and women who dedicated their lives
For a better future.
To you, we should apologise - although it wasn't all in vain,
There still is a thousand-mile journey
One that has not gone very far.
And so, we choose to be fire,
When we could be water...
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:47 AM UTC
Summer fever
runs through my veins
I'm sick of school.
GET ME OUT OF HERE.
Being an overachiever
at my grades has long since past.
The promise of freedom is tantalizingly
close but still so far
I make promises to visit friends that I might mean
but know I won't keep.
The last day seems as if it blows by
And suddenly,
Victory! Libre! FREEDOM!
I'm gone.
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 11:47 PM UTC
He chose you. I hope you know how lucky you are. I tried so hard to be it for him -- hell, I wanted it to be him so badly -- but I just never was.
Don't worry, even though you have no reason to. I know my place, and so do you.
He loves intensely. Fully. As compelling as the moment you first saw him and it felt as if the stars finally aligned in your favor. As strong as the gush of wind whenever it storms. As overwhelming as holding his heart in your hands. As powerful as the waves that meet the shores. As hard as I stupidly fell for him. Am falling. But trying to let go of.
So when you doubt that love... Just don't.
Don't be bothered when he replies a few hours too late, just be glad that he makes time for you. Don't act affected when he puts his other responsibilities before you, it's just that he's always been an overachiever. He's so used to juggling everything on one hand that he forgets he has yours to hold through it all. Swallow your pride, and accept that he will always be occupied. Don't compare yourself to his past lovers, or the other girls, including I, who are so gone for him. You aren't competing with shadows anymore.
I wish I could call him mine, but he's all yours to adore. *It's you, and it will always ******* be you.*
And I hope you know he loves playing chess. Half the time he devotes to studying is actually spent playing that geeky game. Tease him about it because you love seeing him smile. He drinks ridiculously copious amounts of alcohol but he'll never admit to it. He eats food off the floor. He denies his crazy ways since he just wants to bicker with you about something. He says the quirkiest statements but appreciates it when you let out your peculiar side with him. He'll never let you open your door on your own. He'll wait for you. Always. He claims he's shy, but God knows he could charm anyone's pants off.
Do me a favor: don't be afraid of loving him, and the love he could give.
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
Sitting on the empty stair steps,
Pouring over a thousand of terminologies
In highlighted photocopies of this thick,
Hi.
I know how quiet it is there,
Away from the buzzing sounds
Of the other students in the room.
I know how you have to
Focus, focus, focus
So you chose the spot,
[Maybe absentmindedly? Maybe not?
(Sometimes I wanted to walk straight to you and ask)]
Trying to rack your brains
On what you crammed into it last night.
I know you.
That’s what I’m trying to say.
I know you, not fully, not totally, never enough
And maybe that’s a shame
Or maybe that’s okay
But I see you
More often than not
(It’s not destiny nor fate—just timing and space.)
And I see myself, somehow,
In you that when I pass by, whether up the stairs
Or down,
I can’t help but throw
One last glance,
One last look.
It’s a vague mirror.
I’ve seen the smiles you gave people:
The polite-hello smile,
The you’re-my-friend smile,
The I-know-you-but-I’m-not-sure smile (etc.).
I’ve seen how you walk over the cold tiled floor
Like you can take the world,
Although more humbly and
Without much cruelty.
I’ve seen the happiness in your smile
When people throw you
The look of recognition:
They know you.
You’re the smart one.
You’re the scholar.
You’re the overachiever.
You’re the nice, all-around guy.
You’re basically, the best.
But I’ve also seen
The split-second of the tiresome day
Weighing down on your eyes.
I’ve seen you stare off space,
Looking like you wanted to run away.
I’ve seen the pressure on your
Blank face for only a second, a minute
That your mask gave away.
I want to tell you something.
I want to tell you the things I can’t tell myself.
I want to tell you the things I wanted to hear
When things spin too fast out of my hand.
I want to tell you, I know.
I want to tell you that sometimes,
It gets low.
And when it gets low
(Because it will get low and I know and I’m sorry),
Hold on, okay?
HOLD ON.
I know you don’t know me
Just as I don’t know you fully
But promise me something, okay?
Promise me, a nameless person,
Speaking to you through a
Typed message on paper,
That you’ll hold on through
The current that’s passing too strong, too fast.
That you’ll move on forward
When it gets haywire and foggy and weird.
Because
I see myself in you,
(Although somewhat lesser)
But unlike me, I know
One day,
You are going to be great.
So hold on,
Move on,
Go straight through
Because if you’ve reached the
Lowest point in your life
And no one puts their faith on you,
Forget them.
Forget them because
This nameless person right here
Knows the truth.
I believe in you
And I hope
You’ll believe in me, too.
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
"You're so smart!"
"Oh, uh, thanks"
Somewhere,
Somehow,
Before I could decide,
I was placed into a box.
I was put into a place where escaping was not an option
As I began to realize I could not escape, I made the best of it.
I worked hard, I studied long nights, and I made the best of what I had
I was going to make this box my home.
"Of course it's her"
"She always wins everything"
*** she's such a nerd!"
"Do you do anything besides study?"
I am overcome with confusion
Why had they, the people who had put me in my box
Begin to ridicule me for this?
I had grown accustomed to my box
I actually kind of enjoyed it
But now, I see that I was in a bad box
So,
I try to conceal it
Hide it
Wash it away
It didn't work.
Would I forever be the nerd?
The overachiever?
The effortless straight A student?
The no-social-life excluded nobody?
Would I forever be placed into a box
With the terms and conditions already applied?
- a.g.
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 7:56 PM UTC
I am from Carmella and Peter, who are from Marie, who gave birth to seven aunts and uncles on each side and unknown fathers who were there but weren't.
From the Native tribes of Cherokees all the way to the Jamaican seas.
From the grandmother, I never met but love so much, from the grandfathers who died before they knew I even existed.
I am from the North-Atlantic Slave Trade, 400 years and counting, spread from the southern breezes of Georgia to the Caribbean waters of Jamaica.
From the robbery of my ancestors, the lynches of my great-grandfathers, the discrimination of my grandmothers and the fight of my parents and the reluctance of me.
I am from hugs and kisses of my mother to discipline and handshakes from my father.
From strict lessons about boys and the harshest of truths about life as a Black woman.
From the many years of Thanksgiving and Christmas spent with families who were always so happy to see me, from the hams and turkeys to the soul food made by my mother's hands.
I am from days with no tv, no heat, no idea about how to get by, but my mother made me feel the richest of rich.
I am from self-taught Christians, who never went to church but serve God as though he lives through them.
From the smartest of women and men who told me to never say "Can't", even as I rolled my eyes and told them I've already done it.
I am from a family of women, strongest I've ever known and compassionate as well.
From women who have beaten down by years of male egos and the darkness of their skin.
I am from the urban city of New York, where in two seconds and a metrocard, I am in the Gold Coast.
From the gentrification of Gates Ave, and the impending doom of it happening to me.
From the projects and two family homes of Bushwick, now turned into high-rises for the wealthiest of New York City.
From the architecture of a Trump tower right across the street from a low-income housing development.
I am from the hard times of depression and anxiety that were overlooked with alcohol and arguments, from the outbursts and crying myself to sleep, to not knowing the real thoughts of my father and what he thinks of me.
From the overachiever of my mother wanting to make a better life for me and me succeeding in her dreams.
From the many pages of poetry, I write to calm the mind and heal the pain.
I am from the generation who hopes to make our ancestors proud as they have made us.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 8:07 PM UTC
You promised you’d never let go;
You promised a lifetime.
Standing there and holding her
As if I’m completely blind.
He thought he could hurt me,
But I am completely fine.
I’ve been with a cheater,
A beater,
A super overachiever…
Now I need some me time-
Some bubble bath and chai tea time.
No reason to shave time-
I am fine with who I am.
Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 7:31 PM UTC
I'm high on likes and retweets
The hearts, and flames and repeats
I'm an underachieving overachiever
A social media facade I've designed
A highlight reel, my life defined
But behind the screens, a different tale
A search for meaning, a life to hail
The validation I seek, a fleeting thrill
A moment's high, a lifetime's fulfill
I yearn to break free from this digital stage
And find my true self, in a real-life page
Jan 15, 2025
Jan 15, 2025 at 1:52 PM UTC
A life of my own,
where the light shins through curtains
and remnants of rain on the veranda
where we danced last midsummer
A little corner in the world,
where my childhood dreams
become the lens of reality now
dancing in the limelight
of an overachiever's dares
A coffee shop down the street,
a seat unoccupied
a muffin left uneaten
a glance at the heavy door
a coffee stain on the oakwood floor.
Jun 18, 2023
Jun 18, 2023 at 3:46 PM UTC
I may be young, but i know a lot.
I may be frail, but i'm strong.
I may seem really smart, but i'm not afraid to be wrong.
I may think i have it under control, but inside i'm a wreck.
I may seem like an "overachiever", but that just keeps me in check.
I may be a role model, or a success, when actually i'm a big, ugly mess.
So here's the lesson i'm trying to teach, it won't take much longer
It's perfectly fine to have off days.
They only make you stronger.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
a single drop
escapes and shapes
the one reforms into the many
forces merge and maintain the center
as an ocean to a clear running stream
effortless delicate movements
the beautiful semblance of creation
only free when infinity extends an open hand
we gracefully bend submitting to the wind
ever escalating the highest life and limb
gales roll in and away
drifting wide and floating astray
iridescence is indescribable yet defines
the sky as she decides a color
her choice always a brilliant contrasting horizon
grandiloquent patterns push to lavish design
extending to no less than the highest point
contours of jewels and soft silky edges
expand in the flourishing demand
moving on in an elaborate showdown
illumination has changed direction
mist is abundantly clear
looting and diverting a moon’s glow
enhancing the sky’s light with spectrum’s of sight
diamonds in the sky
these silhouettes fall into a slow embrace
obscurity celebrates movement
with this final chance in a dance
abstract is an overachiever here
endlessly molding a new shape
a familiar sight replaces the mirage
swarming the moonlight to be still
to see the secret inside a shimmer
the very heart of all things
where a reminiscent choral sound
rhapsodies pure aesthetic
calls you to a sublime slumber
magnificent claims this place of illusion
a majestic showing of dreams and nightmares
more is all we need
patiently we await the kiss from bliss
her touch behind the eyes
opens up the skies
for an Ethereality
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
The countdown begins
Three whole weeks,
then one week,
now four days,
it’s tomorrow-
in three hours.
Until the dreaded hour comes and goes.
But it doesn’t end there.
It’s only the start
of my two weeks of hell.
My hands sweat and shake
as I frantically flip through pages,
what have I been revising for?
weeks of effort-
but the words blur into one
and… time.
Pens down.
I’ve messed it up.
Again.
Then comes results day,
Suddenly, sitting the exams seemed like heaven
compared to this day of hell
because I already know-
before I even open that little sheet-
my work probably hasn’t paid off
And…
I’ve messed it up.
Again.
Now I sit in front of my parents
and they ask
if I even tried,
but I did try
I tried for four weeks.
Eight hours a day.
Up to the very last minute.
I tried.
But they’ll never know,
because all they see is
that little white sheet
with the little black numbers.
all my hard work-
reduced to nothing
they can’t see past the percentages
to see me,
crumbling
before their eyes.
So I stand and sigh,
which nobody sees or hears,
pull out my textbooks of torture,
and let the current of words
and equations
and lists
pull me under…
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 5:40 PM UTC
have big dreams.
Yes.
Have a strong heart.
Yes.
Have a brighter future.
Yes.
Have a big imagination.
Yes.
Have mesmerizing eyes.
Yes.
Have a beautiful smile.
Yes.
Have a powerful voice.
Yes.
Have an uplifting spirit.
Yes.
Have a fearless mind.
Yes.
Have a determination walk.
Yes.
Have a brave face.
Yes.
Have a stand tall attitude.
Yes.
Have a will to change.
Yes.
Be an overachiever.
Yes.
listen and learn.
Yes.
protect other people.
Yes.
motivate, and believe.
Yes.
Yes, people are many things, never say what you're not capable.
Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 8:07 PM UTC