I have a brother who is the first,
I have a brother who is the last.
I am a girl who is in the middle,
Always accompanied by a riddle!

When I exchange blows with them,
This is how my mom condemns:
Give him respect, he is elder!
Show some sympathy, he is younger!

But, what Am I?
Doing in the middle?
I am not the one to be shown respect,
I am not the one to be shown sympathy...

And when my Dad exaggerates:
"My sons, the first and the last-
Are Always fast,
But, the middle is slightly in contrast"

Contrast, In What way?
I convey:
"I was away,
With my friends at the cafe,
When I had to give them a bouquet
Before I could reach the buffet!"

I reach great heights,
And show them delights
But always my neigbours tell:
"Your sons never rebel,
I think the middle is hell!"

And I am the middle
Who Is always unable
To tolerate their riddle!