The youngest child

No one talks about the youngest child truthfully Only the other ones who understand it No one talks about the fear of the cold emptiness you can't fill once everyone else is gone Nor do they talk about the ache you feel for your younger self That innocent baby who would sit and play games with herself She would sit and wonder why 'later' never came Maybe 'later' never meant it would happen It was just the way they eased their own guilt Because deep down they knew I would give the whole world to them if I was strong enough If only they had given me their time to teach me that strength But as a youngest child, I can only continue to play games with myself Maybe this time they're not even meant to be fun They're just to convince me that I'm not going to be left behind.