I am an orphan with a family
Neither my decisions actions are taken seriously.
They never gave me a single penny
However, I never ask them any
Always, the second child was centered
As a firstborn born I was self-mentored
Often, I was asked to stay quiet
My half-life ended in tears, day and night
I was asked to do all the chores
My talent was a page that everybody tore
I had a dream of working in another city
For which I was tortured and beaten without a guilty conscience
I was having a miserable time
As a firstborn born it was like reciting a kindergarten rhyme
My pain and illness were not bothered
It made me stronger rather
I am trying to heal this trauma eternally
And adapted to this never-ending story silently.

.    .    .