The Black Sheep Of The Family

The Black Sheep Of The Family

She was the black sheep of the family,

never as good as her siblings in their polished light.

Every room reminded her of what she was not,

every silence carried a quiet comparison.

They praised the others with easy smiles,

names spoken gently, futures neatly planned.

Her name arrived like an afterthought,

spoken last, if spoken at all.

She learned early how to shrink herself,

how to fold dreams into smaller shapes.

It felt safer to expect nothing,

than to hope and watch it taken away.

At the table she chewed on words unspoken,

while laughter skipped past her like rain.

No one noticed the cracks forming,

no one asked why her eyes stayed down.

She tried harder than anyone ever saw,

measured love by effort, never reward.

Each failure carved deeper into her chest,

each success dismissed as luck.

Loneliness became something familiar,

almost kind in its honesty.

It asked nothing of her,

it never told her she fell short.

One day she stood alone and understood,

the fault was never in her bones.

She was different, not broken,

and still worthy of being loved.

Even though she was an after thought

and black sheep of the family.

Someone different then them all

she knew god loved her ❤️