Some people assume
The youngest child has it easy.
Though I may be last from the womb,
The standards set before me,
Are far from “easy-breezy”.
A sister at an Ivy League,
Another on the City Council stage,
Forgive me if I feel fatigue,
These high standards set,
Have caused me to age.
How simple it seems,
Not to be as great as my sisters before me,
However, I have my own dreams,
And though it may be difficult,
I believe success is the only thing I have to achieve.
It seems people know me most by my last name,
Yet I know of a way for them to learn mine,
By claiming my own fame,
And showing them my potential,
I just have to wait, for it is only a matter of time.