The most wicked standards are the ones we create for ourselves.

With every step, the ceiling gains altitude, I am left reaching higher.

Making up the old excuse,

Someone may be better.

A dream to live, my years to give

Towards a timeless cause.

To make myself more worthy,

A minute can't be lost.

The leaders, artists, teachers,

All have their goals in sight

And work so hard to reach them,

While trapped in their own plight.

For people are rather strange

In the way we view ourselves,

A win may no longer apply if

Another acquires a trophy as well.

I wonder if the day will come,

When I choose not to compare

My work and my whole life to those

With an experience I do not share.

Until then I will keep working,

To raise the roof so high –

And hope that I do not end up dead,

With a heart that sighs in discontent.

The most wicked standards are the ones we apply to ourselves.

The writer is a student at Battlefield High School, Virginia, USA.