Vacillate

The one who should have the answers,

The one who should know everything.

That's the life of number one,

That's my life.

Pressure kills me faster and faster,

Soul rotting inside from the sadness that takes over me.

Who am I really?

The top percent of my class?

Or a sad soul struggling to live in this vile society?

Competition amongst friends for that spot,

Such a cruel, inhumane way to kill our future.

I don’t want my youth to die studying,

But how will others see their precious valedictorian

Fall from Grace?

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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