Y’know, sometimes,
I wish they’d all shut up.
I mean, I love ‘em,
But sometimes I hate ‘em.
I work my --- off for people like them
To turn around and make me feel bad for it?
It’s like, nothing I do is right.
If I win, I’m lucky.
If I lose, I’m just not good enough.
If I’m modest, I’m self-depreciating.
If I’m proud, I’m cocky.
How is it I can’t have my moment?
I work hour after hour, a slave to my own perfection,
And you have the nerve to tell me
That I’m wrong for being proud?
Or that I don’t deserve what I have?
That I’m a one trick pony? Yeah right.
Say that when you can step up
And do what I do
With half the grace I do it with.
I’m a good person, I really am,
But I cannot STAND when people are unable to accept the things
They put upon themselves.
Instead of whining like little babies,
Take a tissue, shove it down your throat, and
WORK
HARDER.