Beautiful

I thought what I had done was beautiful,
it was my work of art,
Something to be admired.

I read it out, and everyone clapped,
I was ashamed and proud,
They were clapping for me.

Then another person read, and another,
Each one better than the last,
And all better than mine.

This is the reason I don't do it, I don't open up,
It's a lot of hard work,
And it's all for waste.

Time to go back to being me,
Not bold, not pretty, not confident,
Time to shut myself back down.