Be proper, be kind, be beautiful, be wise. Dont stare, nor gawk, or make a scene. Dont preach nor nag, speak little, dont gripe, Dont argue, dont fight. Be cautious, be keen, be wise, and not seen. I hear these words reverberating through me. I am trying to free myself from the problems my mother insisted on. I am vocal, i scream I yell...I just..why...Why must i be quiet. Why do i have to hide who I am. In her eyes was I never enough? My brother, oh sweet he is. I nearly didnt remember him. Yet he never forgot me. Am I not memorable to our parents? Why didnt they come to find us. Did they not love us enough? Or feel that we were god enough? I am beautiful, poised, caring, and unique...Was it not enough to deserve love of my own parents...Arlondale, I raised him because...Because they couldnt! I always took responsibility for their mistakes...their beatings...