It's Only Me

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It's Only Me

You sit there and hear this when I say that making me the cause of every spat.
When I ask you for something often is when you leave me with nothing.
My head pounds from the pain in my heart, but you would never
admit your role or its part

Again and again I take the abuse storing the hatred for some future use
When will they see or change their way? God truly knows but refuses to say

It does not matter what I think today, when believing tomorrow a better new day
In truth it isn’t and wasn’t to be, but that’s okay remember...It’s only me.

So now let’s take moment to look inside of my head.
For words define reason, why my heart's almost dead.
When it come to composing and showing restraint,
what do I do when I'm not the saint?

For the words that will follow may seem a quite the cry
attention is not the real reason why.
Merely to show the pain deep inside
when under a shadow there's nowhere to hide.

Despite thirty years difference my father decides
to create a child and take him a bride.

Not simply for love, or so I would wage.
Some one to care for mom when she hits old age.

For he was a Saint, as everyone said.
Never a bad deed or thought in his head.

Why a child for a woman already with seven?
Another good deed for his list up in Heaven.

A boy needs a dad, a mentor sometime.
Teach how to shave perhaps, or to keep him in line.

His boy won’t feel lonely, or lacking in love.
Especially if he knows dad's watching above.

Plenty of siblings to help raise him, after he’s gone.
Fate would soon show him to be so very wrong.

A picture they took together in pride with my father before the day that he died.
No portrait with me, with mom or with dad.All that was certain my future'd be sad.

I was with strangers for a time after that,
while my family grieved together and sat.

Oh I had toys, food, a roof above.
You all had closeness and siblings to love.
Once every year they’d send me a card.
What’s there to think of? His life’s not hard!

My childhood was spent in silence and fear,
while watching you sit with a conscience that’s clear.

Guilt was a weapon used every day to keep me alive or at home to stay.
Once in a while I’d act up, or speak out my voice,
the response you would say ‘we have no choice.’

What could I do when alone you’d be, with no way for money except through me
Sixteen years old when other’s got praise, I sat with worry our future in haze.

We had to move- my check it had ceased, in staying with you my life became leased.

Three times prior this upheaval I’d have, the keeping of friends impossible and sad.

Plenty of family and kin all around but never permitted to make any sound.

They’ve remained close or so it would seem while I watched the losing of my every dream

Don’t get me wrong this isn’t a whine.
Nor a complaint written in half measured rhyme.

I simply try to make or to show, deeds aimed at Heaven
can cause some Hell down below.

I’d walk on eggshells for most of my life, dreaming that one day
I’d have me a wife.
I’d make me a daughter, or a even a son.
I would make certain they’d all feel number one.

But that’s not what happened. Nor will it ever be.
But that’s okay, don't you remember?

It’s only me.

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