Always Second Best

Precariously balanced on the edge of a grade,
I push on,
climbing mountains of wadded paper.
I watch my every step
lest I slip.

Glancing up from tattered text book,
your image glistens before me,
alongside vague ambitions.
I reach up with ink stained hands
and feel your fingers close around mine
pulling me one step higher,
pulling me to where you stand.
For one glorious moment
I bask in your glow.
But darkness closes in again
as your shadow is cast upon me.
Higher you climb,
looking ever forward at a goal unseen.

As I watch your retreating figure,
stark realization hits again;
I will always be second best.