You wanted the icing,
Well I'm bring the cake,
How can you do this to my mommy face,
Why her child gotta can see this,
Beating on me just because your pissed,
Are you even mad at me or am I just on your list,
She just wanted me to grow up to something That i missed,
Not living like this,
Not in no projects,
Where I cant even get a plate to this table set,
Why must you do this right in front of your daughter,
Your suppose to be the father,
You changed a second things get hard,
Then blame us saying We played the part,
We have money because Mom worked with the bruises,
But u will never know because u don't love your ruthless,
Im always going to know who my mother is,
not a stupid fucker that let you do this,
So We're packing our bags because we're moving,
And you can figure out how your going to do this
YOU ARE READING
Jungle Bars Pt 1
PoetryA young girl growing up seeing her mom through pain that she can not understand.