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Why do I


You sit pompous and happy proud with your
100 percent
I boil like a kettle
whistling ready to blow
but I don’t

I keep it inside
sending it to my store of already built up anger

Anger and frustration of how I will never be better
than you

Anger at myself for being who I am

But then I think


Why should I be pondering
because in the end I’m better at this

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