To be the first to cry,
when out from the womb, you get the first taste of light.
To be the first to smile,
through mom’s kisses and dad’s embrace.
To be the first to stumble and fall,
in the first attempts to walk on your own.
To be the first to meet people already existing,
way before you did.
To be the first to ask why things the way they are,
the first to feel disappointment when attention is no longer all yours.
To be the first to step out and come out of your shell,
the first to face what the world will throw your way.
To be the first to get scarred, hurt and broken,
from the things that hurt surrounding.
To be the first to make your parents proud,
the first to fail them sometimes.
To be the first to give back when school’s done,
the first to go out into the world.
To be the first to make your own choices,
the first to try what works and what doesn’t.
To be the first to face the world on your own,
apart from the caring shelter of home.
Of milestones and miseries,
the first taste of everything.
Because just because, you’re the oldest
that’s just the way it is.