The life I have lived,
Couldn't be more prudent to share,
When the lullabies performs the listening pact,
While catering to its bare soul to dense it's opening,
Though, it wasn't as welcoming,
Just because I lived to be bitter and hateful toward mama.
She raised me to be something I'm not,
Ignoring the symptoms of being someone who she opposed,
And I just learned that she want a better life for me, that's all.
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Lies
PoetryAn emotional investment toward gaining clarity from the chapters of lies, but it is knitted to explain the strict intake from an un-integrity blab that rolls off the devil's tongue.
