The Third Parent

Third Parent

If you ever wondered what it’s like being a parent, ask the first-born child

Because even if your world is tearing apart you’d have to greet your younger sibling with a reassuring smile 

For in you lies the hope that they might struggle to see, the third parent ‘not much older than me’

If mistakes were weeds in the ground, the first born has many once put under examination.

But the beauty in the dirt is that the eldest plucks them from the soil so that the very ground their siblings walk on is free from contamination.

Although they had no one to show them the ropes, it didn’t mean that they couldn’t teach. It didn’t mean that they couldn’t extend an arm to further their sibling’s reach.

It didn’t mean that their presence wouldn’t stop their siblings from looking for love elsewhere, in replacement for what they were supposed to receive, whether it was in the city’s streets or underneath sheets.

 Do you remember how it felt when you fell and it was your elder sibling that knelt telling you that it will all be fine?

Do you remember when your parents were at work yet it was your sibling who occupied your time?

You remember, don’t you?

 Never take them for granted because despite the arguments there’s nothing they wouldn’t do

Look at how if someone lays a finger on you all hell breaks loose

When your heart breaks, although they might not show it, their heart breaks too

How they strive to ultimately pull out the best in you, in a society that only wants to depict the worst that you can be.

For the eldest does carry the hope you might not see,

the third parent ‘not much older than me’.

 

 

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