They tell me I’m talented.

You whisper I’m smart.

They murmur I’ve got this.

You’re happy to hear what I say.

And in this room,

I know you want me here to stay.

So how can my heart still ache so?

Why do I feel like I’ve tricked you all

Into looking up toward a person

Who’s about to fall?

How can I meet so much opportunity

With so much sadness, apathy–

At times even regret?

Do my insecurities fuel an inner fire

To burn even brighter?

Or will I someday find my self doubt was right?

Do we all still have yet to find

I’m just another imposter?

–Written by Sandy Heights

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