Sitting in the cold they all whisper,
"I'm sorry i'm not good enough," i say.
".... not as good enough as my brother."
"I'm sorry i'm always in the way..."
They all stare, in utter silence,
then they all went back to whispering again.
I walked away, and no one knew my absence,
I want this all to end, but how and when?
I'm sorry i'm not the perfect child,
the perfect daughter, niece, cousin, grandaughter;
you never cared if I fell, or even smiled,
maybe you won't care either if I died, so why bother.
