Knives

I stand amidst my family
as they go on with their lives
not noticing that mine
is being stabbed with many knives

I'm trying my best to think
of all that's well and good
but all I seem to have
is a broken childhood

I do so many things
to keep my family sane
they are hard enough to live with
even harder with all the pain

What about myself?
Do I dare think of me?
Do I have a say?
Can I even be happy?

No, that's what I'm told
every single day
I am nothing in this world
Not even prey

They don't understand
even when they see all the signs
I want them to know
I don't fit in these lines

Why can't I be me?
And rid myself of this knife?
All I ever wanted
was a better life