stepping into the foyer, a gush of wind hitting me
can you smell it on me?
my paranoia is getting the best of me, i need to calm down
a nice hot showing will cool my nerves
exiting; my heart is thumping in my ears
she smelt it, she felt it, she sees it
no where to hide or run i have to face this obstacle
jumping over the lies, and racing past the excuses
i confessed: "i smoke weed"
my mother's anger is boiling on her brown skin
she's thinking i'm just another unsuccess
how do i surpress my feelings other than clumping them in a heap of smoke?
i dont have the therapies or medicines, i just have mary jane
that mother daughtrer realationship will never been the same
but how dare you judge me when you are no different
i understand you dont want your beautiful daughter to fall in the devil's trap
But you didnt set a better example for hopes like that