My time will yet come.
I get no blessings whilst others get theirs in double.
Was I born to represent sorrow? To get snubbed?
Have I wronged? Sinned? I’m cursed?
Infected with no purpose?
I’m left troubled.
Is this preparation for when I score
So I remember what I went through?
I have congratulated enough that my dear smiles
Have become hateful.
I’m envious; which god do you pray to?
How come others’ successes come in sequels
When my time to shine sits and acts so decent?
I’m betrayed by my own dreams,
I should be up there doing “meet and greets” and live streams.
I’m betrayed by my morality,
Shouldn’t I be like my peers doing whatever it takes,
Giving them whatever they want to take?
I’m young but too old for this dead outcome,
Am I slow for this pace? Should I tie my shoe strings tighter and run?
Will I even make it?
I have walked and run in all directions but I land in the same spot.
The routine changes, the approach gives birth to new ones yet no progress is born.
Watching others secured over and over,
I can’t help but wonder if my time will ever come.