I’m told it’s okay to be me,
but you don’t know how it feels not to be free.
It’s okay to say that things will get better,
but sometimes they don’t.
Nobody notices someone who is in the dark;
a shadow of my brother because he’s the spark.
My parents walk over me like mat;
they wipe their feet on me and smile to him.
I don’t want sympathy, money, even love –
Just want to be noticed, acknowledged, smiled at.
Then I think…
Not everyone is meant to be great;
mediocrity, depression, loneliness: my fate.