I hate you for the pain you caused me,
The lonely nights where I cried myself to sleep.
You used me as trophy showing me off too your friends,
I was nothing more then a shiny attention grabbing statue, only spoke when spoken too, and grabbed out when needed to you.
I was your favourite as you said,
Choosing me over my own sister.
I knew nothing else then to make you happy by doing as you said,
That was the way you liked it, a nice quiet girl compared to my noisy sister.
I realized when I was older that I had a voice, and knew not to be scared of you,
Choosing favourites between your own children is horrible and mean.
I spoke up telling you what you did was wrong,
I was no longer the favourite, nor the quiet and you hated me for that.
The tears and yells were endless as a war began,
This war between my own father and his wife, along with their two children.
You called and said it would be better if we had a distant relationship,
But we all knew what you meant.
You didn't want to see us,
Whenever you had company always sending us down stairs.
We knew you saw us as an embarrassment not wanting anything to do with us,
We barely spoke five words to each other in the two days we visited.
You said you didn't want us anymore,
Calling to us it's better this way.
My own sister, you and your wives child, said she didn't like us anymore,
She is three and she doesn't like us, the pain we felt was like being stabbed.
We cried ourselves to sleep knowing that this war would never end as long as we used our voices.
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