family of constellations - a poem

My Sisters and Brothers and me,

A somber melody echoes in my head,

For in my heart dwells a guilt so heavy,

As if crushed under a weight of load.

Their faces, a canvas of constellations,

Rosy cheeks with beauty so divine,

Yet, I can’t help but feel the separation,

Their grace and poise never seem to align with mine.

Orion's belt and big dipper bless their souls,

But I am unworthy of such a blessing,

With my skin plagued by moles,

I am nothing but a flaw in the stellar painting.

Their limbs, long and slender, they tower,

Above me, who is short, and much, much fatter,

I am the runt, and they, the pillars of power,

A juxtaposition that shatters me, leaving me battered.

Jealousy boils within my veins,

A symphony of melancholy fills the air,

For in my eyes, I see nothing but disdain,

As if I have been singled out for life's fair share.

Why can’t I be as beautiful as they?

Why can’t I shed this weight and be free?

These questions haunt me every day,

Making me feel unworthy, small, and guilty.

How I yearn to be like Them,

To shed this guilt and be at peace,

But alas, I am but a condemned gem,

A faulty, unworthy, and in pieces.

My Sisters and Brothers and me,

A family, yet, I feel so alone,

For in my heart, guilt continues to bleed,

A melancholic ballad, a never-ending tone.