I said to myself: ‘You deserve more
than the drivel you’ve put up with.’
Walked in, no expectations.
This club? Just an escape.
One weaponized wink
froze me in place
purring ‘I’ll
be your
prize.’
I've lived in the shadow of comparison, where every step is measured against another's pace.
The weight of expectation crushes me,
as I'm reminded that I'm not leaving up to their standard.
The echoes of 'you'll never be like him' haunt me every step of the way .
I'm tired of being defined by someone else's excellence.
Tired of being told I'm not enough,
that my efforts are futile.
The pressure to conform is suffocating, yet l yearn to break free from the mold that binds me.
In the mirror of others' eyes, I'm distorted,
a reflection of their biases and expectations.
My ideas are dismissed,
my achievements overlooked.
But when he presents the same thoughts, they're met with applause and validation.
I'm exhausted from trying to fit into shoes that aren't mine.
Exhausted from living in someone
else's reflection.
I crave authenticity, to be seen and supported for who I am.
I want to shatter the glass ceiling of expectation
and forge my own path.
So Can someone help me find my voice,
my identity,
and my strength?
Can someone see me,
hear me,
and support me for who I am,
And who I want me to be?"
It curdled.
The landscape.
Goop.
The notion the I might get that degree?
Whoosh.
Revving up to a wasteland.
And live in downed wires.
I really might have graduated.
If my organs didn’t curdle.
People look at me like I have eyes that care.
Or gratitude.
So I wailed at notions and old sticky notes.
And my soul that didn’t study enough.
Expectations
Can shape the fate of nations,
Give some, unrealistic notions,
And others more honest realizations.
Expectations
Color all our communications,
So, if you want to feel those good vibrations,
Think about your associations,
And whether the good intentions,
Are real and not mere fabrications.
Feel for those who are color blind,
And carry rope for others to bind,
But realize that to leave them behind,
With their own kind,
Will give you peace of mind,
And maybe, just maybe give them a chance,
To heal their broken mind.
Penned in 2025
am i not a child?
i'm burdened with the expectations
i haven't seen the world yet
but i'm supposed to be a 'great wonder'
"is it too much to ask?" they say
while throwing words that leave wounds
one second i'm their child and the next
they wish to forget i even existed
my blood boils whenever i'm compared
with her, him and them for being too stupid
i want to live with my own pace
but the people i know won't let me heal
Our expectations rarely match
Reality, it seems,
For it’s not possible to snatch
The dazzle of our dreams.
The same applies to dreaded fears
Which cloud a coming date.
The truth, when it at last appears,
Proves we can’t speculate
About what hasn’t yet occurred;
Such attitudes waste time.
Our future’s either dark or blurred
And changes on a dime.
So whether outcomes fall quite short
Or drastically exceed
Whatever we’d envisioned
What is always guaranteed
Is that no one ever knows for sure,
Including every sage,
If our hopes or fears are premature,
Until we turn the page.
"May is the month of expectation, the month of wishes, the month of hope." - Emily Brontë
Here we are in the merry month of May,
when, each Spring, I implore you pretty Miss.
This year, will I win you with a bouquet
as we two are meant for passionate bliss?
How can I get your cherry lips to say,
"At last, we're ready to give you a kiss!"
I know May is the month to know your charms,
and this year I will hold you in my arms.
Silent season is a waiting season
That stretches human patience to exhaustive limits
And brutally put human endurance on trial
As expectations are mercilessly heightened
Deadlines come and disappear
With no visible achievements in sight
Hope gradually gives way to despair
And human help seems totally obliterated
In silent season God even seems far away
Leaving man in total disarray
And in utter helplessness
And feeling betrayed by God and fellowmen
However Silent season is for preparation
It is for correction and working behind the scenes
For total reformation for the task ahead
And God works mightier in silence
Just be still and know your God
In silent season be ready to be transformed
And He will keep His promise to see you through
In silent season pray the the more
Do not give up on God
For He is preparing you for a glorious future
To become more than a conqueror.
For if gold must gold it must pass through fire!
Oh, I turned seventeen
burning my dreams into a smoke-stained hue.
I miss that life without screams,
a life made only of soft, gentle dreams.
Once, colourful ponies wandered and flew,
kissing the moon with sparkles beneath them.
How I ache for that world to return
but time does not remould,
it only burns bridges.
Now the dreams are black,
colours and joy misplaced somewhere
in the endless search for “something better.”
The ponies have turned into bears,
and laughter has dissolved into silent tears.
Yet still, I would choose that bear,
draped in a sparkly dress to shield my skin,
guarding myself from demons
that once looked like angels
the ones I once invited into my dreams.
Now the dreams lie buried somewhere
under piles of books.
The writers have lost their words,
the dancers their movement,
the guitarists their strings,
the singers have swallowed their voices.
They tell us to stay numb
because we dream too much.
Then they tell us to dream more.
But who will tell them—
it’s not that we stopped dreaming,
it’s that the dreams
have turned into nightmares.
Struggle point
Birth was almost death
How much time?
Health issues attack
Turning into circumstance after another
Had no name from the start
An infant who Doctors said would depart
Doctors had given up hope and stated 7 would be the finale
Family was told to prepare for a Funeral
Desperation within my Families eyes
My Grand Mother’s said she knew someone higher and wise
Being the praying warrior that was Grandmother was, prayed with the voice to the highest
Sincere and Honest Faith within
Heaven responded, “I am the Father who giveth life”
Prophecy strong in your Grand Son will live beyond Doctor’s expectations
I am the fulfillments in all creations
Your Grand Son will be a blessing to you
What was a circumstance transcended into victory
Testimonial story
Everything Heaven stated came to past
Outcome of deliverance
Strength with endurance
Establishment with influence
Heaven’s accomplishment established
Health issue battle then being wonderfully being the human product, and here I am to testify the outcome.
Slowly the pressure I put on myself is killing me
Slowly I am losing it
Aiming for perfection something I simply cannot reach
Looking at everyone expecting the best
The pressure i put on myself slowly killing me
Slowly im losing my mind
Something that I love but is killing me at the same time
Like a drug,I crave it and I have to have it no matter what
Slowing I'm losing it
Slowly the world's expectations crush me
Slowly the world's in my head are getting louder
Slowly I'm losing it
Slowly my mind is leaving me
Its like a drug I can never quit
I crave it
The tears held back through a smile
This is the life I choose to live
Preforming for others,losing it behind closed doors
I am killing myself
Killing myself for perfection
For my own expectations
The pressure is like a drug
A drug I refuse to ever quit
A drug thats I crave soo much
I looked up to them as ideals
But they put me through ordeals
Of compassion, of respect, of kindness—
The people I envisioned were too unreal.
Strangled and throttled by the vines
How could I forget to read the signs
Of beauty, of hope, of fairness—
The life I strived for was too unreal.
Unnoticed, I'm fading away
So tired now, I don't want to stay
Of serenity, of tranquility, of happiness—
The world I dreamed of was too unreal.
I had to let someone know
But you had to deliver the final blow
Of love, of empathy, of humility—
The concept of you in my mind was too unreal.
Finding love on the internet.
The world of fantasy and illusion.
Half truths lies and make-believe.
A gamble… a toss of the heart.
A crapshoot at best.
AP: 3rd place 2026
I wish the world would just crash down on me
It's always looming
I wish the world would just call me out
Instead of just assuming
Then you would see I'm exactly what you expected
But vileness and hypocrisy I have at least perfected
Don't act like that's not what you hoped I'd be
Don't act like you think you're better than me
You wanna feel validated
Intoxicated
You wanna feel defiled
A little wild
You want me to despise you
You want me to surprise you
Expectations
On my shoulders
I feel the weight
Of all these boulders
Dragging me down
I hit the ground
I am not proud
I am not lost
Nor am I found
Yet I am crowned
Like everything worthwhile in life...
It's best to put the effort forward.
Pays to elevate our expectations.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
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