What is it like to always live beneath your potential?
Never inviting in love because you’ve learned you don’t deserve it?
Always instead being dished out crumbs
And having to even earn those?

Never having enough money and the things you really want
Always working beneath your skill-set and always the employee
Never stretching yourself and daring to steal the show
Through fear of rejection
And that feeling, oh how well you know.

Always playing small
Always looking out
As the rest of the world expands
While yours is filled with self-doubt.

With a limited horizon
And a lack of connections
Most time is spent alone
In a barren wasteland
A form of inner hell.

Not really living it seems
More like dying a slow death
Of the failed potential deep inside
Left to rot and decay.

So far out of reach
It takes a miracle to strike
Into the heart of your cavern
Where you hope one day to find
Your treasure inside
Needing love and support
To gently entice growth and a way out.

Out of the cave
With first steps to try
Like an innocent child
Full of hope and doubt.

As you gently take by the hand
The one left behind
With some glimmer of hope
That this time he’ll step out.

© Angela Dunning, 25 June 2015

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