Sympathy I
I’m torn apart,
too many pieces to fit together.
Oh, God! I’m praying.
Hear my words.
The youngest of many
expected to carry out the lives of others.
Is myself too hard to be?
I will never know,
I will never be allowed to grow.
When I think things are going right,
something manages to go wrong.
I thank you for my solitude, though,
but little help it does.
I’m unable to use it to my advantage.
Please, listen father!
I need your help.
I can’t deal with being nothing,
treated as though I’m transparent.
I’m not! I’m here!
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