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I am grateful, not for my father,  
nor for my mother,  
brother, or sister,  
but for myself.  
Not out of selfishness,  
but because I stand alone.  
They have departed,  
leaving me behind.  
I am here for myself,  
and I will be here till the end.  
Though they have forsaken me,  
I remain.  
So, I am eternally grateful for myself.

Where do I stand in this vast world of ours?
Where is my place and where do I belong?
Who am I and who do I aspire to become?
In five years where do I see myself?
Do I wish to blend into obscurity or rise above the rest?
Do I aim to be a force to be reckoned with, or merely a fleeting shadow?
A businesswoman commanding respect, or an enigmatic figure of desire?
A woman carving her path in a world dominated by men.
Who, I ask, do I truly wish to become?

In the realm of numbers, behold the three,
An oddity among the even, a lone entity,
Unfair and unyielding, it stands tall,
A trio, with a duo and one in thrall.

I am the extra, never part of the pair,
Always on the side, solitarily, in despair,
The power of three, a force to behold,
Capable of breaking, a story untold

In the darkness where shadows reign,
Lies a place untouched by light's domain.
A heavy weight that suffocates the soul,
A numbing ache that refuses to console.

A silent storm that rages within,
Drowning out the joy that life could bring.
It grips the heart with tendrils of despair,
Leaving behind a lingering, heavy air.

But even in this deep and endless night,
There's hope for a sliver of guiding light.
A flicker of warmth, a hand reaching out,
To lift the spirit from its endless doubt.

In the symphony of life, we find our song,
Notes and rhythms that carry us along.
Melodies of joy, harmonies of sorrow,
Music whispers of our hopes for tomorrow.

A bassline of strength, a drumbeat steady,
Guitar strings strumming, keeping us ready.
Through highs and lows, the music never ends,
A soundtrack to life, our faithful friends.

In the depths of your care, I find despair,
While you provide, your presence I can't bear.
Though you call yourself my loving father,
Your actions have left a scar I can't smother.
My heart aches with the wounds you've bestowed,
You're no father to me, this truth must be known

Home is where I find solace,
Where I am truly at peace,
No judgments, just pure connection,
A place where my heart finds release.

Yet I was born into a broken nest,
Where judgment and hatred reside,
Though that's the home where I was raised,
I still hold love deep inside.

I love my home, despite the pain,
And I still hold love for you, dear mom,
For love endures through sunshine and rain,
In the place where it all began.