For others it never comes.
It seems I am the other
A product of a cold and distant mother
A youth of poverty and pain
Steered by my fathers twisted brain.
In my house love did not abound
Instead, we learned true fear and how to stay down
As an adult the negelect still has its place
With hurdles of depression and a lack of social grace
By all of this I am left
Feeling sad and hollow
My hope is that
The burden will disapate in the years to follow.
Author Bio:
Mattie Clubb is a twin, a sculptor, doll maker, and animal lover.