I don’t know what it is to be a daughter
They say that blood runs thicker than water
But why is it that I feel no ties?
I look at my mother and I see it in her eyes
The pure, unconditional love she bears
I know ‘motherhood’ has been glorified for years
Their sacrifices becoming not a choice but a consequence.
Yet unmistakably I’ve seen love in her, hence
Her love must make me a daughter?
There have been days when I have thought her
Love for me was misplaced, a mistake
Because despite my desire to reciprocate
I’ve let my heart be an impassive stone
Despite her love, I have felt alone.
My father does listen to what I have to say
But smiles at my concerns, at the end of the day
I’m not the older son whose advice holds sway
And not until my brother had to move away
Did I become my father’s right hand
Despite a daughter, (almost) a dependable young ‘man’.
I was twelve when one day I served him tea
Without being asked to, and he
Smiled sweetly and said “It’s great
You’re finally learning how a daughter should behave.”
What it is to be a daughter I don’t know yet
I’m putting together pieces from the society’s set
Of rules and do’s and don’ts I can find
So that one day I can have my peace of mind.
mimimusing 