i remember growing up as an only
was for just over eight long years
the other children were an oddity
lack of interest brought forth tears
all my toys i kept pristine, for them
brought out when they came to play
i believed they would enjoy them all
even so, they never chose to stay
adults in my life another mystery
so they taught me to read at four
kept feeding me books in my room
the quiet little girl behind some door
wealth of friends on my nightstand
but with whom could i play a game
too busy having grown up parties
most of them didn’t know my name
they tell me i am a grown up now
these silly worries are in my past
so i dive in to play with kids if i can
because they invite me at long last
adults stand by and stare at times
they think this a very strange trait
those that never sat on the sidelines
can see no reason for an only’s fate