MIDDLE

poem by: rei

— I WAS ASKED WHICH WORD I WAS,

I sat in silence and thought for a while.

Which word i was?

After continuous thinking for almost a hour,

i came to a conclusion that i seems to relate

so much that left my taste, sour.

The word held the meaning of being average,

Stuck in between like a mud in a puddle

But i guess i am just a middle.

Born in the middle class family and

As a middle child, but as i guess

I was just meant to be wild.

Growing up, i learned the meaning to be a middle,

Where i was too young to understand but too old to act

As little.

I have been told countless time that,

I was too young to go out and have fun but

Too old be lazing around and eating bun.

I guess, i am just the middle.

Where i am not too pretty like herself but

Also not too ugly to humble myself. Where

I am not intelligent like genius but also not stupid

To be seem as inconvenience.

I am not too short like the average girls but not as charming as

the pearls. I don't held the beauty of flower, neither the

intelligence of coward.

Maybe i was meant to be a middle, where life seems to get hard but i can't stop solving the riddles.

I have been asked, is it hard being a middle child?

And i just,

Smiled.

They didn't the know the pain of competing for the attention and

craving of affection,

From those who gave me my own reflection.

I guess, at the end i was just meant to be middle.

— middle child.