I do what I’m told

I have friends

I try my best

But it isn’t enough

I ninety feels bad

A failure

But for some people it’s a win

I don’t want to squash their victory

I don’t know how to feel

I rest on

The stiff wooden bench

With a view of the lake.

I scroll on my phone,

Oblivious.

I then look to the heavens,

But see little there,

Just endless ribbons of cloud

Strung over blue.