Second Best

I am only second best.
This is the firm handshake
only seen behind the back.
No one is proud enough to hold you perfectly,
and everywhere you look something is held above you.

We were only second best.
The silver under a tounge
who's owner flaunts gold.
It will begin to kill you inside
when knowing everyone you hold dear
only has seen you as an option.
Your sister, your mother, your ex lover
Your friends, your neighbors...
all talk of something far better
and we were misunderstood.

Nothing really compares to what true love can offer
but in visual comparison
we are too bold.
That silver shines too much light
so we tend to blind the hopeless
until they cannot see.

They all fumble
with squinting eyes
tailgating shadows
of golden ghost faced heirophants
whispering words to the masses
who tend to nod their heads
as if they never had any other choice.
But behind the drama,
and the curtains of solidarity
a time for the ones who have tried their best still remains.
Push us forward when you realize
all who have everything never appreciate
and those who work the hardest seem to always have nothing at all.

Throw out your golden crown.
The biggest prize is my beating chest
of muddled earth and unattractive truth.
Tarnished and forgotten about.
Spoken of
only to prove a time that I actually did exist.
It's not pretty.
Gold won't always shine either.

This is reality
and first prize is just a glamorous show to hide behind when you know something deep down.
After the picketed white fences and trophy wives.....
After the beauty of young faces wrinkle...
When no one shows up when you're dieing,
and all that's fantastic presently dulls to an indifferent cycle...
I am still a polished second place holding what you had never won.
You should be jealous.