Second child of all girls
Older sister married and gone
But they still care about her more then me
Younger sister always home
But they still worry about her
The oldest is married, with children and happy
But when she calls
They are so ecstatic
People always worry if the older child will get a good job, or they worry about the wedding and grandchildren
People always worry if the younger child is rebelling, or getting hurt or if they will get into a good school or not
People never care about the middle child
They never know their name
Never cares if they’re even there
If the younger child got into a fight
They would freak
If the older child got into a fabulous school
They would be cheerful
If any of that happened to the middle child
Their words would be, “Who did what now?”
They don’t care about me
They never did
It was all an act
An act to keep the middle child happy
I hate being the middle child.