I soaked my shirt in tears,

grieving for the shadow I’d become

but the puddle you saw

wasn’t enough to lift your pride.

 

I sought for approval,

In ways far from my liking

Only to drown in sadness

as you watched me burn.

 

Then why do I find it hard to laugh

when you stumble?

Why do my eyes well up in tears

when you crumble?

My cry for you can’t match any words.

 

Yet you taught me to trust no one

that the moon will outshine the sun in many phases.

Yet you taught me to judge by one’s feet

dusty or muddy, ignoring their wit.

To stay wide awake,

because heroes don’t exist.

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