Satisfaction is not mine to find
It seems as though I cannot know
The feeling of contentment.
The pressure, always self-imposed
A trait I wish to lose.
Always feeling less than best
never knowing sweet success.
Comparing is my doing in.
I can’t accept just who I am
When so much else seems better.
I long to give myself approval
To feel as though a jobs well done
To never care what others say,
To be just me, and be okay.
copywrite 2012
Cindy Hosea
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