Expectations —
from you, from them and me,
almost always in concert
but never in harmony.

Impressionable eyes may be watching —
always must stay strong, true, and blue —
for if I falter,
the world of another
may falter, too.

Patterns of happiness,
a model of true giving and compromise,
have meant years of
careful planning and coping —
now I have thoughts of importance,
and was it all so wise?

Thoughts of independence —
all for none and none for all —
surely have crossed my mind
more times than one,
but recorded reminders
of who I am and what I am
slowly surface as surely
as the morning sun.

Expectations —
powerful enough to arrange lives
and determine sanity —
somehow seem less important,
don’t you see —
perhaps I now realize that expectations
are not requests from others,
only unreasonable demands
from me.