Your validation

You sit there and tell us your ideals. But

When did your ideas validate how my

Actions must be? Did you inherit

Your crown when you stepped into

The room? If I step into another

Room, do I get a crown too?

 

My creative words are validated by your pen

But I’d rather play a game full of sin

I don’t want a grade to define me

When I can do just fine with me

Do I need to be validated to be real?

I don’t need your words to tell me how to feel.

 

Even as you give me an A, I don’t want to see

Because you knew that’s not who I wanted to be

You knew – as I thought I knew – that I must grow

Not with your validation but from what you know

Sorry.

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