The other day I was cleaning my room… Yep, I know I tend to start many of my posts this way. It’s like there’s always a new adventure when there’s cleaning to be distracted from. While
cleaning pretending to be cleaning I found a published poem that I wrote when I was in grade 12.
A bit of a backstory to this poem, I only got something like 37% on it but still sent it for this Canadian contest thing to get it published. Sure enough out of all the poems sent mine got picked and somehow my final note was now in the 80’s. Sometimes it funny how things work. I never questioned my teacher about this…..
Stuck in the Middle
“Outta my room!”
almost empty baby books,
getting picked on…
I am the youngest and it stink!
Being the youngest is a pain!
I am the youngest and it really stinks!
Being the youngest brings me pain!
no apparent attention.
Bedtime comes too early.
I am the youngest and it stinks.
I can’t imagine
Being the youngest is a curse!
Being the youngest … no more?
“Don’t be a baby!”
“Act your age!”
No sleep at night!
No rest all day!
Have to act grown-up.
Being the middle child is worse than worst!
Let me know what you think about it.
What is your experience with your spot in the family?
My Catholic Living ❤