In the eyes of parents, I never grew,
"Uh oh, you'll be twenty," they knew.

On this birthday in June, all grown up they see,
But the growing they missed, lost in busy reverie.

Making money, their focus, for us, they strive,
Yet time for us, they couldn't derive.

Weekends devoid of familial bliss,
A forced connection, something amiss.

At twenty now, still feeling adrift,
In a dysfunctional family rift.

Mom with her problems, laid bare,
Dad silent, burdened, unaware.

Blame falls on us, "You could have done more,"
Unaware of the scars that we bore.

Their dreams for us, a heavy weight,
But our own paths, we navigate.

Blood doesn't bind, as they decree,
Family forged in more than what we see.

Individuals unique, in our own right,
Striving for dreams in our own light.

I was a child, needing protection too,
But I served as your therapist, what could I do?

Lost my childhood, in the role I played,
At times, a pillar, but my backbone swayed.

At fourteen or fifteen, or younger still,
My mind, my soul, aged beyond its will.

With one more last time, I couldn't cope,
Changed accordingly, abandoning hope.





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