She showers me in gifts and stories,
My dad sits alone,
My dad told me that it's good to cry sometimes,
My mom tells me to stop feeling sorry for myself,

I'll cry,
Not for myself but for the war that has begun,
My mothers army includes the guns of exaggeration and gifts,

My dad brings forth solitude and destiny,
She'll fire her guns as my dad does nothing,
I sit in no mans land and ponder the future,
I silence the noises outside to concentrate on my... the thoughts in my head,

The propaganda that is set in front of my mother are tempting,
Along the signs lay threats of abandonment for treason,

But my father silently proclaims the relief of the words that my mother uses,
He preaches the schools and education,
My mother commercializes the  freedom of substantial proportions,

So as my mom fires her pamphlets of chocolate,
My dad telepathically opens university brochures in my head, in the middle of no mans land