Imagine you are born,
unaware of whom to call your mom.
Then everyone around you fights for claiming you as theirs,
you are then loved by some who cares;
everyone is happy and loving in this house unknown,
not even related to the blood you've known.
But then time spills out,
and no one looks at you frown or pout.
You turn two,
and everything around you seems new too.
Then born is a little baby, you call a "baby sister";
the ones who once loved says her blood is thicker.
For she was born to the family you owe,
who you never knew will turn as your foe.
You love her enough till your heart bleeds,
but in their eyes you've never seen their selfish deeds.
But then you were taken by the other member(s),
far and near but your birthday they remember.
Haunted by the jealous comments from the meanest,
but you know the one who blessed you are the sweetest.
Brainwashed by those filthy pathetic monsters,
you stand against your loved ones for answers.
"what do you mean by an orphan mama?"
Eyes filled with tears,
the truth that unveiled she fears.
She smiles and denies the fact,
and says your mom is studying in fact.
She claims to be your caretaker for now,
and can't answer to your when, why and how.
You're happy to know your mom is pretty indeed,
and your loving aunts and uncles are all you need.
You turn eight and tall but hunched,
for your endless responsibility have eaten you up for lunch.
Born are more little demonic offspring,
and your baby sister is no more a little thing.
They say they were born with a silver spoon,
and you are someone found and adopted by a loon.
Overshadowed by the useless pampered sibling,
you lay your head alone at night shivering.
The mother who regrets every night when she lays her head down to sleep,
is happy to see few love you but is still holding on to the truth she secretly keep.
She watches you grow like her,
and is happy you've grown stronger.
And a third person watching all these for years like me,
would only wonder how complicated and hard life could be.