I didn't know I carried light.
I didn't know others envied it.
There were millions of stars before me—
each shining at different wavelengths.
I loved them.
They made the dark sky glow
with dreams,
with stories meant to inspire.
But
I never knew
they saw my light stronger than theirs.
Was it because
And at the light of others?
Is it the cracks I tried to hide,
not knowing they let the light escape?
Still, one question stays with me—
what is it
that they see really in me?