When I was four
All I ever heard was a slamming door
You screamed grow up
Now theres a missing childhood
Sitting in pitch black
Saying “Its gonna be ok”
Lying “Daddys just fine”
Hoping “Mommys coming back”
A mothers love was folk lore
Are we your children or a chore
Hoping to be noticed
In this mess
I tried to save you
But now your hurting me too
I’m torn wanting to be like you
Worried I’ll be like you
Or mother
But I raised my sister and brother
You fought over how to raise us
So I took over
No need to fuss
