What is this pain within me
This pain of not being enough
Always teased
Always ragged upon
Never good enough
Everything I do
Has the potential to be wrong
Everything I do
Is less than par
I'm not a bogie
Not even a double bogie
Probably a 4 over par
Just can’t quite hit the mark
Can’t fully get it
I get close
Even get to the green
But I can’t putt
I grab my putter
Line it up
Pull back
Swing
And suddenly the audience
That ever foreboding audience
Yells
“You aren’t doing it right!”
And my ball lands
And rolls
It might even nick the edge of the hole
But always
It bounces
And rolls away
Drawing the scorn of the crowd
The ever daunting “awwwwe”
Oh they still clap
The polite golfers clap
But I hear them
Under their breath
The disappointment
Or beyond disappointment
The expectancy
No surprise
It’s just Kara
It’s just the way she is
She’ll never get it
Though usually
It’s not under the breath
It’s the outright mockery
“HAHAHAHA
YOU FAILED!
You are such a drama queen,
Just relax.”
It’s the looks
Why can’t I just get over it?
Why can’t I just be me?
Ignore the looks
The yells
The sneers
The expected failure
The words
The ridicule
I want to ignore the audience
Play my game
The game for me
For my heavenly father
And ignore them
The polite golf crowd
When will that audience disappear?
When can I block them out
Focus on my swing
And hit the ball
Exactly the way I know I can
When?
When will that happen?
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