Oldest Daughter

I am the oldest daughter, But that isn’t just privilege. I am the oldest daughter, And I have no more to salvage. I am praised for my good behavior, And it teaches me to be perfect. Nothing less is acceptable, No excuse can be my savior. I make a single mistake, And it’s the end of the world, But really the bar is too high. I’m sitting in the corner all curled. Held in one spot, But I’m told to get up and walk. I am asked to speak, But I open my mouth and am told not to talk. I am the oldest daughter, And I was born imperfect. Why am I the oldest daughter, When I can’t do what they expect? I wasn’t made to be the best child, I was made to bring out the best in others. All that it seems to do, Is bring more judgment from my mother. I can choose to cry, But they will only give me more reason to. If I shouldn’t cry or hold it back, What am I supposed to do? After all, I am the oldest daughter.