poem for a school thing :3

so basically my school is doing this poetry competition thing where a bunch of kids from different schools around the country write poems and the school submits them and some of them get put into a book. me and  few of my friends thought it might be fun to try so we wrote some poems and i thought i would post mine here haha (⸝⸝⸝• ω •⸝⸝⸝) its not my best work but i wanted to try out an extended metaphor so yk

you can give constructive criticism if you want, im always trying to improve my writing, but pls dont be mean about it idk if i'll be able to cope 😔😔😔

the theme was "this is me, i am..." so it basically just had to be about yourself, i sort of exaggerated for effect but yk 

Hieratic Verity 

When you reach the top, you notice the eyes of jealousy on you. 

They rest, 

laser points, 

concentrated sunlight, 

on your torso, your face, your very soul. 

You realise you must hide. 

No-one at the top remains there for long. 

Stationary you will atrophy. Exercise your skill to prove you belong here. 

They doubt you. Doubt will get you killed.

While they are on your side, get your subjects to gather bricks. 

You stay, sat at the top, paralysed. 

Look around, keep an eye on those below. 

They are watching you, so you must watch them. 

Trust no-one. Not even yourself. 

The builders are putting secret passages in your foundations; they will try to take your riches, everything you earned. 

Hire new builders. 

The structure will take time (time you do not have) but it must be perfect. You are to remain there for the rest of time after all. 

Build up your walls, protect yourself. 

They are coming. 

Cover yourself, shrouds winding and twisting against your skin. 

They are snakes. 

Replace your builders. No-one knows what you look like any more. You are fading. 

The walls converge, a point beneath your feet. Geometrically perfect, as all creations should be. 

Hieroglyphs tell your legend. 

You are legend, existing only when spoken of. You hate them, but without them you are nothing.

They exist to push you upwards. Compare yourself with them, unimpressive and bland. 

You are ordinary, but when placed next to the generic, faceless masses you become more. 

Extraordinary. 

Cling on. Clutch to their words. 

You are not an attention seeker, reassure yourself. 

You are different to the leeches, sucking on the dregs; you are more than. Not superficial, not fake. 

You are standing out, so you must be different. Fundamentally estranged. 

It is because you are better, you tell yourself. 

Society has nothing on you. 

Gods have nothing on you. 

You are Ra in the morn, Horus in the eve and Osiris at midnight. Light, War, Death. Over all things you are important.

Hide inside, you are safe at last. 

Wrapped in lies, 

boxed in an excuse, 

walled in by rumours. 

Feelings are in jars, neatly and surgically removed. 

Your image is your greatest achievement. Other gifts are concealed, nestled between bricks. 

Finally, you can relax. 

Years pass. 

Boredom sets in. 

Perhaps you will go outside. It has been a while. 

Maybe they have forgotten. 

Maybe they have forgotten.

You squirm against bandages. You writhe. Nothing. 

A realisation sparks in your empty head. 

You are trapped. 

Trapped and alone. 

Forever. 

Your sanctuary, your pride, your joy; it is your tomb. 

And it always was. Reputation is a death sentence.

𓂀

it might be trash idk haha, lmk if you like it or whatever :3