It's never your fault I forgive you again You yelled And I cried I cry because I am weak You are not to blame You work hard How dare I offer to help For I am nothing Weak pathetic child that I am What am I good for? A burden to you Nothing more Never anything more
I love my mom. :-) really. Sometimes.... I get mad. But I write poetry instead of fighting or running away or developing permanent mental trauma, like some people do when they don't get along with Mother, eh mister Freud??