Anonymous
January 2025
I see you sometimes, passing by,
A flash of brilliance I can’t deny.
Your stride is steady, your form is strong,
Yet something about it all feels wrong.
There’s sharpness in your gaze, a restless spark,
A mind that could carve its name in the dark.
But you linger with shadows, a careless crew,
Their laughter loud, their motives askew.
They pull you down, I can’t help but think,
Like weights tied tight, dragging you to sink.
I don’t know your story, your pain, your fight,
But it feels like you’re dimming your own light.
You run with the crowd, but your pace is slow,
Holding back the strides you’re meant to show.
I wonder what dreams you leave behind,
Buried beneath their noise, confined.
Maybe I’m wrong—it’s just what I see,
A stranger’s guess at who you could be.
But if I’m right, it’s hard to ignore:
You’re meant for so much more.
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