Loser, Let Go

I dangle from a frayed, silken cord of melancholy ... Gaping beneath me, a chasm of hope and elation, aglow. For most of a lifetime I've wrapped a cloak of worthlessness about me, Using the flashes of talent to adorn the dark neglect like stars. Oh, there is an odd comfort in the complacency of underachievement - I used the indifference of others as my impetus ... Not to fail, but rather to never complete ... ANYthing. You see, you can't be placed, (or even expected to), If you don't cross the finish line, or never leave the gate. I succeeded in vicarious ways, however ... Through the things that my critics found of little consequence - Grades, honor roles, academic awards, sports accomplishments and citations, But never did I exult openly in front of my detractors, (The ONE, really, who saw nothing but his requirements, As the only measurements that truly mattered). Now I see, above, the black expanse of that life of shortcomings ... That mockery of pretending to care about what he cared about ... I feel my fingers loosening their grip on that rope of failure, Sadness and careless interest starting to slide through my palms, The opulence and shine of release, success, self-esteem, and joy, Warming the soles of my feet ... whispering "Let go, lad ... live again!" How sad, that it's the specter of his death, and the waning of his sanity, That makes it so, for all I ever wished for ... Was his praise. ~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Eight Word Challenge #8" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.