Tired daughter By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
My septum doesn't fit my rings,
I have an aching neck and back.
My phone's offline and never rings,
Steamy showers make me cough black.
I'm irresponsible and incompetent,
Or so I hear you say.
Yet here I am the sole heir here for your soul,
So go on push me away.
I'm calloused, cold and rough.
No gentle words to speak.
I apologize, but tough love...
Is perhaps not for the weak.
But don't curse me for my habits,
Bring into question my mind.
What stresses all pull upon it,
As if my gears unwind not grind.
Taught out and tied,
Worn out and wrung.
Don't cry out wolf,
When all has been done.
I'm exhausted and young,
The most honest things I am.
So you stress to see my strains,
Break-in, help yourself to a gram?
So why not lock you up now?
We could just tuck you away.
Instead I got you therapy...
Could you at least cooperate?
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