Am I that unfortunate brat?
Everyone getting what they want.
Why haven't opportunities come to me?
Oh, wait, people are so lucky—really.

'You are different from the others, '
They comfort me with these words.
Does the wounds start to close?
Not really—the pain in my chest just grows.

I watch them soar, wings of confidence and grace,
Stuck on the ground in a desolate space.
Their dreams take flight like butterflies so bright,
Mine remain grounded, lost in the fading light.