Date: 10/23/2012 5:01:00 PM
If I was a prodigy, by my age, I would already know.
At my age, World Cups have been won,
Microsofts and Facebooks have been founded,
Lives promised to service,
To people, to writing.
Everyday, I'm increasingly aware that it is too late to be genius at anything at all,
And every tick of the clock is a reaffirmation of the consciousness that I am
A mild deviation from the norm, at best,
And at worst, one in seven billion.
Heck, I'm not even the only Sneha Vakharia on Facebook.
Competing with too far too many people, on far too many fronts,
Who have lived, live or will live,
Is wearying. But it's too much to ask to accept anonymity.
I feel like I'm waiting, with my eyes and legs closed,
For my chlorine soaked eyes to stop blurring
For the colored rings to merge to white,
By which time, time would have passed me by.