When my prison broke free


        My hatred had deprived from the feeling that; I would never be able to feel what future they will have. That my father could start over and become a better dad. While I had been the test subject, and the 'mess up'... they were carried with much more appreciation and respect. Now I carry the burden of being the big sister. Big sisters don't get jealous, or become mad. But even as our role entitles us a higher responsibility "How can we forget?"I place on my smile and stride down the road of sisterhood with me head held high, but my sorrow enclosed in a prison inside. They mumble nonsense and clap their hands at the spotlight they receive. As I stand back and watch their blessive hearts take more of what was hardly given to me. My father came to me one day, with a timid smile and said  "Daughter what's wrong" I was shocked but my heart gave away. I told him all my troubles as he held me. He whispered he never loved me any less than the first time he saw my face. And at that moment my prison broke free.               

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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