Winner of the Poetry Prize
I am the winner of the poetry prize,
I am special in your eyes,
Looking up to me you see,
Potential & a place in history,
Winner of the prize...
Will I be rich
Will I be popular
And hang out with the in crowd,
Back at home with it be the same me
Beneath the glittering shroud,
Winner of the Poetry Prize,
I feel bad for the losers,
Or no I don’t the line between
The two is paper thin & not so remote,
Would I give up this prize for anything,
For hope,
I think not it is a dream whithin a dream
A Camelot,
All is beautiful until it isn’t
The end,
Do I have to make a speech,
Will my face be on the news
Celeb indulges doses over,
Believes his own hype,
I was a better person a loafer
Before the fame & strife,
Who is the real me & why do
I care if I’m put on a pedestal?
Why can’t I permit myself
All the love that I seek,
Is it our there or inside of me?
Looking at this award,
I no longer need it like I once did,
To want fortune & fame
Is to love oneself a kid
Like in childhood with
The wholeheart of innocence
You once loved yourself...
Enough til the world
Tore it away form you,
Like the Golden Fleece,
And then you had no peace,
In adulthood you searched for the fleece
In vain
But found it your childhood,
Safe & sound again
Just innocence without the pain.
