I was always a small child,
A skinny little thing
No one understood why
My brothers were so big
And I was so small

I was always a nice child
Helping others,
Not think about myself
Never thinking about myself

I was always a curious child
Looking through drawers,
Folders, notebooks, bills
Always wondering,

I was always a smart child
Looking at the big numbers
And the small numbers,
Always very small numbers

I was always an attentive child
The month with no lights
Was the month when
The numbers in her purse
Were smaller
Than the number on the paper

I was always a hungry child
Pushing the food around
Until my parents left the room
Then handing it over
To my brothers
Who needed it much more than I did.