That Is What I Am
That Is What I Am
By: Britt
Why is everyone against me?
Why can’t they see me for who I really am?
Why am I never good enough for any one?!
I am the forgotten man.
Stuffed away in a drawer,
Like an old sock that is missing its pair.
Never brought out into the real light,
Yet always waiting there.
Destined to remain lodged away
in the corner of the top drawer.
Until cleaning day comes
And I am needed as a rag to mop the floor.
Then tossed into the washer,
Just enough to get clean,
And then back into the drawer.
It just my family’s routine.
It is just a waste
To completely throw me away;
So back into darkness I’m sent
To be used another day.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
The routinely forgotten sock
Of family who has no need for me.
In a family that wears flip flops.
I’m not the luckiest catch
My family has no need for socks,
Let alone one without its match.
My family barely notices
As I silently drift by,
In and out of the dark drawer and washer,
Yet never noticed. Why?
Maybe they all think
That if they use and wash me enough
I will become thread bare and disappear completely,
All with their good luck.
Or even better yet,
I’ll get a big enough hole
And they’ll finally have an excuse to throw me out for good
Without hurting the worth of their soul.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
Too much of useless waste
In a family who conserve their energy.
It would take too much time,
To listen to my problems and pain.
Let alone try and understand them,
Without finding themselves to blame.
My sister doesn’t have any problems.
She is my parents’ energy source.
And I am a child that is barely put up with,
And looked upon with remorse.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
Someone who is tolerated
Just because I happen to breathe.
Without the steady heartbeat,
That barely gets me through,
My family would quickly discard me.
A lie I wish wasn’t true.
My hopes, my dreams, my needs, my wants;
They are nothing but a shadow.
Cast in shade by my sister’s goals,
They now hang in the gallow.
She says she wants to be a doctor,
Or maybe a lawyer, no wait-
She is going to be the president.
And shine over the fifty states.
That is what my parents always told her,
Because she can do no wrong
And me- just finish high school,
And then I can be gone.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
The daughter that will never surpass her sister.
The one with no future is me.
The day I get enough confidence
To finally tell my dream,
My family shoves it back into my face
As if it were just a pie filled with crème.
The fragile little dreams
That I had been sure to keep so safe,
Sealed within me under lock and key
Had just been crushed right to my face
I told them what I wanted to be-
An actress, but they said no
I could never make it in that bizz
Never land a show.
They said I wasn’t right for the part
And were sure the first day I’d get sacked,
But what they didn’t realize
Was that everyday of my life was an act.
When my parents fail to notice me
I act like I don’t mind.
They see all my sister’s accomplishments,
Yet when it comes to mine are blind
I act like I am happy,
So I am no longer a forgotten sock,
An energy waste, or an intolerable daughter
With the future of a rock.
All they see is a quiet shell
Of who I really am.
Inside I am screaming for them to hear me!
To care a milligram.
But I remain silent for them,
And alone I walk my path
So they can live the happy life,
That I will never have.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
The girl that has slowly died inside
Just for her own family.
So the ones that don’t see or hear her
Can live their fake lives of bliss.
The girls who suffers deep inside
With herself as her only witness.
The girl that lets her family
Slowly dig her grave.
Until one day they will finally burry her alive
As her tears pour down waves.
The girl that is writing this letter to her family
As she watches the world turn blurry
And can no longer make out the figures
In the picture of her jury.
The jury that has decided her fate
And sentenced her to death
Her very own family
Causing her to take her final breath.
The girl that is now turning out her light
To conserve energy in this family’s lives,
Hopefully to turn it on in another place
Where she is wanted and strives.
The girl that sits here wondering,
Hoping that someone will miss her.
Miss the old sock in the back of the drawer
That will soon no longer to stir.
That is what I was.
And what I have repaired.
The girl that has drowned herself in her sorrow
Before her family could burry her in theirs.
By: Britt
Why is everyone against me?
Why can’t they see me for who I really am?
Why am I never good enough for any one?!
I am the forgotten man.
Stuffed away in a drawer,
Like an old sock that is missing its pair.
Never brought out into the real light,
Yet always waiting there.
Destined to remain lodged away
in the corner of the top drawer.
Until cleaning day comes
And I am needed as a rag to mop the floor.
Then tossed into the washer,
Just enough to get clean,
And then back into the drawer.
It just my family’s routine.
It is just a waste
To completely throw me away;
So back into darkness I’m sent
To be used another day.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
The routinely forgotten sock
Of family who has no need for me.
In a family that wears flip flops.
I’m not the luckiest catch
My family has no need for socks,
Let alone one without its match.
My family barely notices
As I silently drift by,
In and out of the dark drawer and washer,
Yet never noticed. Why?
Maybe they all think
That if they use and wash me enough
I will become thread bare and disappear completely,
All with their good luck.
Or even better yet,
I’ll get a big enough hole
And they’ll finally have an excuse to throw me out for good
Without hurting the worth of their soul.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
Too much of useless waste
In a family who conserve their energy.
It would take too much time,
To listen to my problems and pain.
Let alone try and understand them,
Without finding themselves to blame.
My sister doesn’t have any problems.
She is my parents’ energy source.
And I am a child that is barely put up with,
And looked upon with remorse.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
Someone who is tolerated
Just because I happen to breathe.
Without the steady heartbeat,
That barely gets me through,
My family would quickly discard me.
A lie I wish wasn’t true.
My hopes, my dreams, my needs, my wants;
They are nothing but a shadow.
Cast in shade by my sister’s goals,
They now hang in the gallow.
She says she wants to be a doctor,
Or maybe a lawyer, no wait-
She is going to be the president.
And shine over the fifty states.
That is what my parents always told her,
Because she can do no wrong
And me- just finish high school,
And then I can be gone.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
The daughter that will never surpass her sister.
The one with no future is me.
The day I get enough confidence
To finally tell my dream,
My family shoves it back into my face
As if it were just a pie filled with crème.
The fragile little dreams
That I had been sure to keep so safe,
Sealed within me under lock and key
Had just been crushed right to my face
I told them what I wanted to be-
An actress, but they said no
I could never make it in that bizz
Never land a show.
They said I wasn’t right for the part
And were sure the first day I’d get sacked,
But what they didn’t realize
Was that everyday of my life was an act.
When my parents fail to notice me
I act like I don’t mind.
They see all my sister’s accomplishments,
Yet when it comes to mine are blind
I act like I am happy,
So I am no longer a forgotten sock,
An energy waste, or an intolerable daughter
With the future of a rock.
All they see is a quiet shell
Of who I really am.
Inside I am screaming for them to hear me!
To care a milligram.
But I remain silent for them,
And alone I walk my path
So they can live the happy life,
That I will never have.
That is what I am.
That is what I have become to be.
The girl that has slowly died inside
Just for her own family.
So the ones that don’t see or hear her
Can live their fake lives of bliss.
The girls who suffers deep inside
With herself as her only witness.
The girl that lets her family
Slowly dig her grave.
Until one day they will finally burry her alive
As her tears pour down waves.
The girl that is writing this letter to her family
As she watches the world turn blurry
And can no longer make out the figures
In the picture of her jury.
The jury that has decided her fate
And sentenced her to death
Her very own family
Causing her to take her final breath.
The girl that is now turning out her light
To conserve energy in this family’s lives,
Hopefully to turn it on in another place
Where she is wanted and strives.
The girl that sits here wondering,
Hoping that someone will miss her.
Miss the old sock in the back of the drawer
That will soon no longer to stir.
That is what I was.
And what I have repaired.
The girl that has drowned herself in her sorrow
Before her family could burry her in theirs.