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The better essay, and the teacher’s praise
We never got along, you and I,
If you fell behind, I never gave my hand
And you returned this courtesy to me.
But why now, do your tears pierce my soul?
You were the strong one, never afraid to stick out your neck
What did they do that hurt enough to make you cry?
What injustice that needs righting?
Tell me what to do and I’ll make it so
I was always scared you’d steal my mask of perfection
Take it and make it your own
But you never seemed to need a mask
All your feelings were your own
And you had to make them known
You’ve never cried before, that was the shock
I guess that to us, you were a never-breaking rock
But something happened to you today
That found the weak spot in your mental shield
And showed the world your hidden face
You were always so sure of yourself,
You wore your confidence around your shoulders
Like your favorite blanket or cloak
You hid the pain of their words, even from yourself
Or perhaps just stored them away, but today the dam broke
You need not worry about what will happen to those
Who hurt you so badly
There are other who have loyalties to you
Just as strong as my own
We will make them pay for the price of your tears
Even though we competed, ran the endless race against each other
Your tears still stung in my eyes and heart
Why? I ask myself a thousand times over
And then I know the answer: We are the same, you and I
But you made your voice known to the world, and I kept mine hidden
You spoke the truth for us all
That we all must be unique, or else we must die
None of us listened
None of us saw your hopes and dreams, anger or tears
We only heard your differences, a crime for which you had to pay
And catching rain in your mouth
In a warm summer shower
Gave you a happy moment
While the rest of us trudged
Through the dark and dreariness
The sword that pierced you today
Must have hit awfully deep
And in the weakest part of the shield
Because of a lesson you must have
Learned very early on:
“If you want to be different
Not following the crowd,
There’s a price to be paid;
If you chose your own path
You must walk it alone
“Through field and bog,
Rain and shine
No matter how dull
No matter how fine
You chose to walk the path aloneâ€