The thing about favorites... they don't change
Yes she was born first, but she was never the favorite
Quite, complacent, ready to help, but not the favorite
Never the favorite
She held it in, held herself high, held herself together
To see her be hugged, her be loved, her be cared for
And yet to be there, when they said no
She was a backup, a bench player, never any playing time
She'd play catch, do the dishes, text first
But second, never the favorite
And favorites. They don't change. That's what makes them favorites.
YOU ARE READING
Her Rainy Day Poems
PoetryJust a bunch of poems I wrote, some sad, some happy some short and some long. Life can be depressing sometimes so why not write that shit out. *Ongoing*
