I am a broken toy
Wedged in the middle with nowhere to hide.
Put aside for the youngest
Looked down by the oldest.
I have no purpose
A mothers purpose, is to watch her loved ones grow.
No repair shop can fix me
For I'm not broken in the outside
But in.
My spirit once thought was sure and strong
Now broken and parting.
I am told of things I should not speak
I keep it balled up inside me
As my parents bounce to me for answers.
I am a voyager
Lost at sea with no compass
To guide me.
No wind blowing my sails
Stuck between sea and floor.
I am at a stump
Two paths lay ahead of me.
Shall I let the wind carry me?
Take me to my purpose.
Even when the clock is broken
Time doesn't seem to freeze
No not for a moment.
Shall no one hear my sorrow?
Read the words spilled as ink meets paper?
Shall no one see the tears welling in my eyes?
Taste the rain as it falls?
I have heard many say
"Things happen for a reason"
But do we really agree?
We live in a world full of violence and chaos.
A question remains
What do we live for?
To see our loved ones?
To smile and play?
To mourn at a grave?
To be lost in only a thought?
What is it that pleases us?
One day it will all end.
Why doesn't the toy part in two already?
Why doesn't the voyager drown?
Why doesn't the chooser leave both paths?
The answer was there all along
It is the hope for a better life
It is the hope for an adventure to begin.
Was I expected to know this?
The younger child is all fun and play
The older child is serious and strict
The mother is worrying and busy.
Now me the Middle child
May not have seen it first
But am all about what is in between
The two of them.
The good and the bad
I must see what is really there
What they all share
Their secret.
This so my purpose
My spirit will forever be sure and strong
No longer parting.
I will wait for the wind to push my sails.
I don't need to chose a path
I need to make one.
Time didn't need to freeze
I needed to freeze
And enjoy my time
No clock is ever broken
Its just stuck at a time we should have realized.
There are many secrets that must be uncovered
Only a clock holds those secrets, answers,advice, And wisdom.
This is who I am
I am the seeker
The seer
The one in between
I am the middle child.
YOU ARE READING
The Middle Child
PoetryAre you the Middle child in your family? Have you ever felt that, because you are the middle child, you are treated differently? Well I can understand and relate. Here's a poem to those who are middle children's. To those who are lost.
