When people talk about having been writing since they were 3

Or how they boast that they were published when they were 13

I take a look around

At all the unaccomplished authors

Who choke back their tears everyday

Who wish that they had the talent that those few do

I watch as they offer cheery congratulations

As they all gather round to hear the story

Of how their life went from "plain and boring"

To a whirlwind of excitement and gratitude

Then I feel like taking them aside

And saying don't you see how you are making them feel

Don't you see how your success if killing them inside

But I don't

I choke back my words

Saying I'll leave it till the next time.

Don't get me wrong

I am happy for everyone who has ever found success

I am thrilled for those who can write for years

Then get published and be happy with their lives

So that is probably why I choke back what I want to say

Trying to feel to jealous

Of how their life has been full of opportunities

I guess I don't want to spoil that adrenaline high

So I choke back my words and gather round

To hear the story of how they became famous

And hope tomorrow I will feel happy for them

Because living with thisenvy is destroying me aswell.