Middle children are always the quietest.

They don’t begin that way, but

Circumstances, make them so.

The older ones hog all the limelight.

The younger ones command all the love.

The middle child is confused.

Should she make some noise? 

Or

Should she be quiet?

These decisions are taken out of hands.

By hands that rock the cradle.

She becomes the receiver

of all the hand-me-downs

Caretaker of the young ones

Follower of the older ones

Hanging in between, directionless

Hoping to be seen, Praying to be heard

Managing to survive, caged like a bird

Adequately fed and clothed

Moderately loved and tolerated

Spontaneous emotion is missing

All that she gets is lukewarm affection

Neglectful acceptance 

I want to be born as the eldest,

in the family in my next life

I want to be a caretaker

A role model, A saviour, Protector 

Bold, brave, a risk taker

Uninhibited, optimistic leader

by

A middle child 🙂

P.s. Image created with ChatGpt