I’ve always felt self conscious,
But I’ve managed to excel,
In school, in sport, but not in life,
Inside it feels like hell,
I never ever got support,
I found my own way through,
But that was still not good enough,
For parents such as you.
I had to earn attention,
For your highness did not care,
To praise, to love, to comfort me,
Instead I felt the stare,
Of constant disapproval,
I could only lose not win,
At school the teachers liked me though,
They saw the heart within.
So school became a haven,
From the bullshit and the beer,
I had nice friends, I had good grades,
But home was fraught with fear,
At school I was accepted,
But at home I was a freak,
At school I had a voice to share,
At home I couldn’t speak.
I guess I was industrious,
I learned how to survive,
Amongst a pack of jackals,
Who would eat my soul alive,
Unless I knew to navigate,
This life and bitter pain,
A place devoid of happiness,
Is where I would remain.
© The Complicated Bunny – 28 Jan 2022
This poem is the fourth in a series of poems based around Erik Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development which is something my psychologist and I are currently exploring.