The second mother .
The peacekeeper.
The perfect one.
The one who balances
The chaos
Of her family.
Who bares the weight
Of expectation
And ideals
Who must remain
Calm and quiet.
Who mustn't have
A voice.
The one who translates
Important conversations,
And apologises
To wait staff
For her parents'
Ignorance.
Oh who
Will care
For
Her?
YOU ARE READING
guns and bullets
PoetryThe pen was the gun. Her words, the bullets. A collection of poetry I wrote when life happened.
