They always tell us that mother knows best
And maybe, to an extent, they are right
But what if your mother never explained to you
That it is vital to search a boy thoroughly before
You let him kiss you on your door step
Or that you don't have to say yes every time
Your friends ask for help when they are broken?
I recall being five and looking up at my mother
And she had nothing to say when I asked her
Why God brought pain to her when she
Wanted to die even though she had all of us
When he left her on a street side crying.
Mother knows best but she told me not to love girls
She told me that grand kids needed to be born
But I am only 16 and my girl loves me
And she kisses like a devil
But, then again, I don't believe in the God
That disappeared on us when my mother lost everything.
Yes, she is supposed to guide me through life
But I can't help but wonder if my kids would
Think I know best if I didn't notice their
****** sleeves and carving board souls.
I understand that mother knows best
But she has to know first.