Last year, I chased praise and perfection's embrace,
Joined every group, in the community's embrace.
Setting bars high, seeking positions rare,
Lost sight of my wins, dwelling in the glare.
For 2 or 3 test slips, I'd scold and dismay,
Anxiety's grasp, in my heart held sway.
Chasing success, shedding tears unseen,
Constant comparisons, doubting my sheen.
Three hours of sleep, a weary day's toll,
A hardworking soul, yet with a heavy soul.
Empathetic, sacrificing health in grades pursuit,
Carrying others' pain, my soul's resolute.
Once, a perfect world, an image pristine,
I didn't despise her, that girl I've been.
For the sculpted me into who I am today,
Peaceful, subtle, loving, in a quiet way.
YOU ARE READING
The Gift of Merci
Short Story"Error means failure, and failure means disappointment." "The Gift of Merci" takes readers on a gripping journey through the life of Sage Luxaire, a relentless perfectionist who lives by the mantra that 'error equates to failure'. With a track recor...
