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Priceless
They advertise you.
You are a gift, unique, influential, strong.
They want to be around you, counting themselves lucky to breathe your air.
But are they?
They rush their children to your side,
Asking for autographs, pictures, words of encouragement.
You are the chosen one. The special one. The only one.
But are you?
You use the cliche phrases, telling them to dig deep and find themselves.
Tell the young ones to work to their full potential. Go on, tell it,
And pray that their wide eyes see the honesty begging in yours.
Because you wonder:
What happened to the days when everyone was a gift, unique, influential, strong?
When everyone was the chosen one, the special one, the only one?
When everyone looked at themselves in the mirror, and said:
How can I reach my full potential?
Are the days gone where questions are asked?
Because if they are, then...
I am the chosen one, the special one, the only one.
And I am not to be advertised.
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