Not Being Somebody Else

Is it good being me, even though I want more?
Am I somebody welcomed and everyone’s door?
Or am I the dull one they choose to ignore
Whispering behind hands, staring down at the floor

It’s always interesting – someone else’s news
Their achievements, adventures give our ego a bruise
But wishing and doing are easily confused
Maybe not that great walking every day in their shoes

Watching another, observing what we can’t get
Fills us with envy and a surfeit of regret
But we only ever judge another’s winning bet
Torn slips on the floor, we tend to forget

Everybody’s life has losses and wins
Selfless philanthropy yet embarrassing sins
Nails on a blackboard not just magical violins
Success and failure, inseparable twins

My physical features are no doubt a fact
The nurturing of parents influences how we act
But the negative views of ourselves we attract
Determined solely by our internal contract

The reaction we have when an event takes place
Apportioning blame we tend to misplace
Positioning the guilt onto our own face
For positive thoughts, our mind allows little space

Events we cannot alter but our reaction we can
Stop cherry-picking positives from every other man
Talking down our achievements we must also ban
Not being somebody else can be the only plan

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