The Forgotten Son

In my own adversity I seem to exist.
The only constant seems to march along.
I sit with my layers as would a schist.
Love, respect, and understanding are gone.

A child at birth destined for something worse.
In those days the memories often did offend.
I chose my path in life not to be immersed.
Chasing shadows of siblings till the bitter end.

I was told once blood is thicker than water.
The connection is so deep it is killing me.
It is all for not, if parents don’t even bother.
Four too many, three seems to be the need.