Original spoken word poetry about believing in yourself when faced with disappointment.

DISAPPOINTMENT

Your clear disappointment in me.

I saw it immediately.

Cloudy, grey ash topped with black slate.

Your pursed thin lips, condemn my fate.

Suspense hung in the morning air.

Pressing firmly upon my hair.

The briefest flicker of your eyes.

About to pronounce something wise.

Self-assuming, I come to grips.

Attempt to lift my heavy chips.

And hear the sharp tone of your word.

“There is always next time”, I heard.

Spoken by you with half a heart,

Pass judgement, end without start.

A harsh line in hypocrisy.

Your verdict, my mediocrity.

“You learn a lesson when you fail!”

Rising emotions, alarms wail.

“Learn to accept disappointment!”

Reconsider your employment.

A brief lesson in history.

Metaphors fill the mystery.

Rise and fall of unknown nations.

"Learn to manage your frustrations!"

A lot of searching of the soul.

Their misplaced words do not console.

Learning, lots of preparation.

Discouraging separation.

“It makes you stronger” I am told.

Let the reworked quotes, unfold.

“Stay focused, look on the bright side”.

I want a ticket off this ride.

As childhood itself was indeed,

Preparation, the planted seed.

The place where disapproval breeds.

Stamping out joy and other needs.

Original thought, how to cope.

Passion, imagination, hope.

In favour of what? Want and greed.

Are these things we really need?

Stress, anxiety, hanging rope.

Grasping to the slippery slope.

“Don’t let this setback, get you down.”

"Persevere, you will get your crown".

“People have succeeded from worse.”

And the rest, march behind the hearse.

Better that, than laid within it.

It doesn't matter how you spin it.

You were way too quick off the mark.

To pour water over my spark.

Inopportune. Ahead of time.

But your confidence was sublime.

A poor initial assumption.

Though you may show no compunction.

A premature disappointment.

Falsely grounded, somewhat poignant.

I most happily succeeded.

You assumed my joy was impeded.

And my quiet jubilation.

Unaffected by dissuasion.

You underestimated me.

You closed your eyes and did not see.

Your disappointment I endure.

My personal belief, demure.

I am not a disappointment.

A plaything for your enjoyment.

Judge me on your personal scale.

Because I succeed where you fail.

I am proud of my own success.

Whilst you pick apart and obsess.

Something you may want to think through.

The disappointment here, is you.

(c) Jay Rose Ana

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