As we grow we get wearied and torn
And from that point we can never be reborn.
It takes a while to realise
Until you see the bias behind their eyes
I came first you see, before the rest
Patient 0, the trial run, the practice test.
Everything’s new, they don’t know
Especially how deep their words can go.
It starts small, light favouritism here and there,
But then it’s feels like they don’t even care.
“They’re younger! You should know better!”
You won’t think of those moments when you read the letter.
With my room so clean, without spec.
It almost perfect, without the bedsheets around my neck.
“Where did we go wrong?” You’ll wonder?
But won’t remember the time you called me a monster?
It’s ok, I really do understand,
You’re sick of trenching on new land.
You want to stay where it’s safe and known.
So I got used to figuring things out on my own.
As we grow, we get old and torn.
Hard to compete when new models are born.
So I’ll grow early like a dandelion in a sidewalk; if thats what it will take for you to let me talk.