It's two in the PM, when the school bell rings
with almost a bag full, and all my other things
a bottle thirsty, a lunchbox hungry;
little footsteps towards my home
another bell this time, finally ahome
a cheerful lady soon comes by
''How was your day? what about your results today?
the day was fine and a silent display
all my favorites in my plate
for she had waited for this date
slowly moving hands and spoon
like its some distance to the moon
''dad asked for your regards"
you know he's working so hard
''we both wish you secure the first place''
i wish she noticed my pale face
''so where is it, show me now?''
but the ashamed child didn't knew how
with half a heart, mind trembling apart
i presented the test chart
second place it said, within seconds she read
my biggest fear on a piece of paper
for a 12 year old something deeper
patting my head she said
''second is my lucky number i guess
i'll love you the same nevertheless!
this doesn't makes you less of mine
don't cry love, there's still some dessert in line!''
WRITER'S NOTE: heyaaa! everyone, its my first time participating in a challenge and this one is by Real poetic called ''Greatest fear". Growing up always winning made me think high of myself and my biggest fear that is not being the first place or being ''SECOND NOT FIRST''. So this poetic piece was all about how i got over my biggest fear in life (according to 12 year old me) with the support of my family (specially my mom i love her to the moon and back). Have a great day!
About the Creator
Missclicked
Hey fella! welcome to my blog or you could say a little window into my thoughts. Here I will be writing about various topics like, life experiences, short fictions, poems and sometimes a little insights to my life. I hope we all get along!
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Comments (3)
Cute, I like the idea of finding the good in being 2nd as it was her lucking number, because being first doesn't make you the best - always!
I enjoyed your poem! I don't know when it happened for me. Thank you😊💕
When a child is an achiever, the expectations of a parent always rises. And this is what, I feel, makes us like the child you described. I appreciate your writing and the way simple you have represented this fear. Keep it up Babe! ❤🤗