Burden

In the midst of siblings tall,
Stands one who's small,
Lost in between the loves and the hates,
Enduring the pain that comes with being in their fates.

A middle child with a heart of gold,
Whose tale is never really told,
Drowning in anonymity,
While her siblings bask in glory.

No one sees the efforts being made,
Or the battles fought, day by day,
Only the errors see the light,
The mistakes made visible with all their might.

What agony it is to be caught,
In the middle with no thought,
Of being recognized, of being seen,
Of being acknowledged for all that has been.

But though the darkness hovers, yet the spirit is strong,
Unceasingly trying to belong,
Yearning for love, yearning for hope,
Never giving up, always pushing, learning to cope.

So here's to the middle child, so strong,
May you find your place, where you belong,
And when the world’s frigid, and it starts to rain,
Know that the sun will shine, radiant and plain.