Epigraph: Parents are in fact teachers, and though we feel that we can tell them anything, sometimes it is to them who we can't say our "sh*t." So, this is something I would like to tell one of my teachers, my father.
Please understand me when I tell you
That I wanna become a writer
To explain how I see the horrible world.
Please understand that I’m still lost
In this delusion that all of this will work,
Take it easy on my brother
He’s a fragile tall toothpick
And your words can sometimes hurt.
These people that are listening
They don’t know what they’ve been given
They aren’t as strong as me
So don’t give them what you think they deserve.
I’ll remember when you told me
I wanna see the hunger in your eyes,
I wanna believe that you’re manly.
Trust me I’ll reminisce
Of the strength you’ll carry, into the abyss
The fortified attitude, that life is truly cruel.
But be strong young son and break wind by sticking
I’ll find what you were looking for
A good son to uphold the values that keep me warm
I’ll find bravery in what you give me
I’ll deem courage in what you expect from me
I’ll push harder when you think I’m weak.
Don’t lose sight of me just yet
I’m just a little boy
Delusional of what really goes on in the world.
I may be the torturer’s horse, scratching my innocent behind
But I’ll grow mature
Be a sage, but I’ll stay kind.
To yell at me.