Sunday, October 5, 2008

cross perceptions




I raised you to be a success
and now I'm the frailing one
You show me love through materials
instead of a warm embrace and words
You talk about me in another language
thinking I don't understand
You say you want a bullet through your head
if you turn out to be like me in your nines 
Don't be too soon to speak. 



You tell me what to do
where to work, what to eat
Its too much when you tell me what to wear 
You tell me to gain independence 
but you've been the shelter over my life
You've been the best and worst in me
You've brought out the beautiful 
and ugly in me 
I can only obey in fear of being wrong 

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