failures aren't the miserable ones
for it’s a myth propagated by another class.
they’re like the illuminati,
only sadder,
struggling to keep their potential hidden,
but stay hidden they must
for it is their mission.
they are the mildly successful,
the ones who almost made it,
the ones who did
but not quite enough.
they are the most irritable,
the most exhausted.
and at the peak of every climb,
there’s the imposter syndrome.
that’s when it happens:
a fracture in reality,
as a quieter version of them
slips in from some parallel universe
where potential stayed pure
because it never had to perform.
failures are ignorant
the successful, more so,
but once you’ve had cake,
how do you go back to bread?
so they gather.
they whisper.
they recruit.
and someone always listens.
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