Not even good at things that make me happy

Too boy enough for others
Too girly enough to fit in
Or even have a real conversation
Perhaps, I don't belong
Neither here nor there,
Ladki hai ki ladka
Madam, Sir, Bhaiya, Didi

Not even good enough for
Those people who are friends
Those people who call me hot,
Those people who are jealous yet more successful

Too scared to say this out loud
Too scared to even talk about this
Conformist - no
Anarchist - not really
dissentious - unsuccessful

A jack of all trades
Unsuccessfully trying to validate the self
Excuses and excuses and excuses
Successful people try hard and work hard
Whatever does that mean

What is enough?
Nothing and everything
and yet defies the sense of comparison

Just drill holes and holes
Perhaps these amazing people should get a solo act
And leave the public spaces for the lesser
For those who are not amazing
For those who can never be
For those who want to try

A life wrapt up in words
Unable to encompass the emotions
And yet implying so much more
Greater and greater
Till we think of the Universe
Or the greater still

Perhaps some day,
You'll understand the human existence
Quivering through your bones and breaths
Your emotions and your reactions
Perhaps you'll achieve
Greatness
Or you'll remain sullen
And die - just another stone above the grave
The world unaffected by your ripples
Because you couldn't even be
Good at the things that made you happy.