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Sick of Being Second
Sick of being second.
Second place,
Second rate,
Second pick.
Sick.
Loving those who love me not,
and locking all the hurt away.
Surviving for another day,
in hopes I'll fill this empty spot.
And yet I'll go on loving still,
for I am but a hopeless fool,
who's sick of being second.
poem
by
Enrico Orbita
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