I wear the crown of the oldest child,

A mask of calm, meek and mild.

Burdened with dreams I cannot share,

A blazing vision hidden there.

Sometimes I’m fire, a red flag high,

They look away, but still ask why.

Expectations chain me tight,

Yet I refuse to dim my light.

I bear their weight, yet walk my course,

A silent storm, a stubborn force.

Misunderstood, but fierce, I stand,

The world won’t break my heart or hand.