I suppose in the elder’s eyes,
The youngest seems to have it best
Always pampered, always loved
Cared for more than the rest.
But we, the smallest siblings
Know that’s far from the truth
And now I’ll list before you
The drawbacks of our youth.
No matter what they say,
Elders are given utmost respect
“They’re older and know better!”
While we’re treated with neglect.
An opinion of a youngster
Is instantly dismissed
If the big one’s got a view
Ours ceases to exist.
They say age is just a number
Yet, when yours is greater
What you say is dead-on
Mine can be tended to later.
Elder siblings are full of envy
Had stricter parents, harsher rule
They ensure you’re treated the same
Go out of their way to be cruel.
“When I was her age,” they’ll yell
“I didn’t have a phone!”
They’ll exaggerate for our downfall
To compensate for their own.
Mum and Dad will exclaim
“Oh you’re right, yes yes,”
And we’re robbed of potential treats
My sister’s true nature they’ll never guess.
In front of relatives, they’re angels
Wearing halos round their head
But when they leave, that halo
Is used as a lasso on me instead.
So now that you’re aware
Of my story of partial woe
The truth about being
The youngest- now you know!
Tapasmi 