She is all that is left of her parents
of the wonderful things that they did
Everyone expects her to be perfect,
live her life reminiscent of them
And all that she wants
And all that she needs
Gets pushed aside, in favor
of what they want to see
To them she is an exotic bird in a golden cage
To be admired and revered but never set free
And though she try's to ignore it
Pretend that they love her because of her own merit
She knows in her heart
They will always see
The last living legacy
of her dead family
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryPoems I write when algebra is about to put me to sleep and I need something to do
