Relationships
A Poem About Toxic Expectations
When will we ever be enough to those who aren't?
10 March
1243
My own hopes soar to unreasoning heights,
yet my own self-worth seems to be crashing around sounds of freight.
Watching the rain on a sunny summer day.
Waiting for a break to come into a world without reason.
No path in sight for a boy who lost his own way.
No room for human error, only space for robotic completion.
The perfect son, student, friend, partner.
How are we supposed to reach such arbitrary figures
in a world that only plans to transfigure.
When will we ever be enough
In a world so tough?
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