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To My Parents...Die
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Very Old. As you know the feelings
You don't know the origin
They come from deep inside
Somewhere not seen, even by the with holder
Kept to build within the walls of deep depression
It slowly takes over
Blaming all upon others yet not the one
It's hard to admit the things wrong to a loved one
Only wanting what will help
Yet only destroying what is left
Trying to control their every move
Yet slowing them down
Trust is a hard thing to have as just a keepsake-collecting dust
Mother I know you care but sometimes you don't agree
But sometimes you have to just let it be
I am who I am
I'm sorry you can't change that
I'm sorry I'm not like others
