the constant fights

they have to stop

I'm tired of sitting here with my mop

here to wipe your tears

at your command

you don't put in mind my need or demand


I'm always in the middle

learning about you all

and picking you back up every time you fall

you don't even realize that I'm hurting

okay I get it yeah I see

I have to grow in maturity


but who's to say I make it through

all the pain I hide 

the other side

I'd ask if you cared--but I know you don't

I'm as useless as the air

cut me off, it's a dare

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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