Only Child - Poem by Teedy Dawn
The symbol of perfection, in my father's eye,
A life of expectations, which naturally were high.
Never feeling worthy.
Never growing old.
Always striving silently to be ‘As good as gold'.
The life my parents didn't have - a burden just for me,
Wrapped in guilt and pretty things that bound me to their knees.
The weight of constant criticism placed upon my head,
The mantra ‘Could do better', echoed ‘till I'm dead.
What would they do if I did not?
Or, told them how I felt,
Would their false reality crumble?
Would all their aspirations melt?
Would a ‘wake up' to my adult life suddenly make them see?
They are not the ideal parents, which they profess to be.
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