M.I.D.D.L.E C.H.I.L.D

Made of fire and quiet storms,

In a world that sees us as too much,

Daring to be loud, daring to exist,

Defiant in the face of being dismissed,

Learning that trouble is just another word for bold,

Ever the spark they didn’t expect.

*

Child of the middle, the unclaimed space,

Holding too much, feeling too deep,

Ignored when soft, scolded when bright,

Listen, they say, but never to us,

Different doesn’t mean difficult, rebellion doesn’t mean wrong.