My Stupid Organ

They say the world goes round and round.

How is it then that I am like a statue?

Standing still with a mighty pound.

Scared to break through the clay, to better my mold.

All I hear is the sound

Of the passers by saying “Let go of the hold,

Your fear of being great has on your soul!”

They yell to me, “Though the fear may be bold, 

It is your’s to sculpt, to control.”

They say the world goes round and round.

Why then do I let myself to be like a statue?

S was a normal teen…kinda.  He didn’t really argue with adults like normal teens. He would still get mad and fight with his parents sometimes but less then an average teen. He was always taught to treat others with respect especially adults.  The thing that most didn’t know about S was he represses himself a lot.  This defiantly happened when his parents did something to make him feel guilty or whatever else that he couldn’t put into words.  He would first get pissed, scream in his mind and or out loud (depending on where and who was around), then just take the thought and bottle it up and let it repress him.  An example is that S was a great golfer (as was his dad), who is also his idol.  He wanted to become a professional golfer and get to where his dad hadn’t.  But S had a problem with not always having confidence in himself.  One of the reasons, he realized, was when he played bad his dad would get upset and would say “why should I spend all this money for you to play like shit?” which made S think the same thing and feel bad.  Then his dad would tell him in a different day and time that S was the best golfer he’d ever seen and could make it.  Which confused S…what was he to believe?? So S would take this confusion and allow it to repress him.  He would allow it to break down a little more of the confidence that he had.  S didn’t know how to beat it…but he had finally broken that repression, so he thought.  Then one day he fought with one of his parents, who released a flood of stress onto him.  The repression was back.  He could feel it…the feeling of just taking a step back and that should put others first.  Because apparently he made it all about him.  He had just beaten it, was golfing better, was happier then ever before, and could feel himself getting better.  S was back to hiding part of himself, back to repressing himself so others can be put first, back to trying to fight to regain himself.