I call myself a middleman
I’m the youngest of my family,
But still a middleman.
It just happens that I’m the one most willing to listen

I bear witness to peoples hate,
Weakness,
Sorrow,
And I try to take it in stride.
It’s hard to keep your pace steady
When you’re carrying emotional baggage,
Especially someone else’s.

Being youngest exempts me from most
Of the trouble I’m caught in the middle of.
Remember,
It’s not your fault.

I find fault in the fact that
People need to vent to someone else,
About another someone else,
Instead of simply talking to that first someone else,
About that someone else’s actions

"I’m so sorry you have to hear this.
Do you understand me?"
Cry,
Whine,
Bitch,
Moan.
Repeat.

Remove the middleman
And what happens?
Like even the mighty arches of Rome
The structures collapse.