My Life Is Not What I Chose. Poem by Meena Somasundaram

My siblings made me what I am
they made me rise above all
not out of love as in a call
being one of rivalry in all.

They took everything from me
not in a manner direct in a way
could it be a grab indirect in a sway
all that had been bequeathed to me in ways.

I was passive all through
believed my parents greatly
never rose against any invariably
thought I would be rewarded suitably.

Nothing came to me as inherent property
all those were swindled by my siblings
they joined together in the dealings
seized all my rightful belongings.

I broke down and was inconsolable
furious I turned all of a sudden
the heart which was once a garden
became so heavy with a burden.

I cried and I felt bitter
resolved not to speak to them anymore
they were happy for that all the more
as they would not be questioned anymore.

They live happily with their children
all of them around in a place
while I run up and down in a race
my children too flew away in a phase.

Tell me who has benefited the most
am I or they in the course
they seem to flourish with a force
my life is not what I chose.