Ordinary

You have a gift

but it's not what you think.

It isn't the talent

in your hands

or your mind

that makes you unique. 

It is your ego,

your bravado

and all the ways

you shut out the voices

who try 

to make you better. 

If only you would listen,

your myopic vision

could expand

beyond the horizon

of desperation

you have set.

But perfection

can't be improved.

You aren't a first draft,

you're the printed copy.

Don't we all see

it's us, 

not you, right?

How many more 

will you go through

before you see

you are the only variable

connecting everyone?

I smile as you move on

to another

and then another

because the truth is

even your insecurity

isn't original.