“What’s wrong?”
Do they care? Do I answer honestly?
“Nothing. Just been a few bad weeks,”
“Oh,”
 
Yeah, oh.
 
Sincerity and compassion are long extinct
Lost in a world where the prestigious Ivy
Wraps around your neck, extinguishing your life
Its allure blinding you to what really matters
 
Emotion is weakness, and everyone knows
Weakness is the vilest of sins
Fine, then, I’ll admit it
I am weak, for I am human
 
Regret and shame constantly cling to me
Like barbed shackles slicing my skin
Draining out my every virtue and sin
 
Tears have carved salty canyons in wan cheeks
Rivulets of blood stretch from wrist to forearm
An everlasting brand of my failure
 
So condemn me for my scandalous crimes
I’ve hurt, I’ve cried, I’ve lived, I’ve wanted to die
But don’t you dare call me weak
I’ve weathered more storms than one soul can possibly bear
 
Those five words he so coolly said
Were different than the ones in I heard in my head
But they held the same meaning
 
He didn’t want me
He didn’t choose me
“You are not good enough”
 
I’m not good enough?
You won’t be saying that when I’m a household name
And you’re nothing but a distant memory
 
When you smolder in a chamber used by thousands
I’ll be adored by millions
Because I’ll make something of myself
 
The fires of Hell have seared my flesh
Scars that you forced upon me
When you threw open The Gates and shoved me inside
Hoping the inferno would shatter my heart, my will
 
But these scars, their shame and hatred
Are not mine to bear
They’re yours
I am more than them
I am more than you
 
Let me just say thank you, Sir
For showing me its head over heart
And wealth over worth
 
Thank you
For force-feeding me a taste of the real world
 
Gratefully yours,
P. G.