my father was a drunk
mother was a *****
dad spent his paycheck on *****
so we were always poor
drinkings what he chooses
going to school with bruises
no friends to talk to
zipper always askew
although they stared
no one cared
until the boy with the charming eyes
the one who told such pretty lies
but i didnt mind
he was ever so kind
finding ways to make me smile
but of course he left after a while
but who could blame him?
i am just a broken kid full of sin
he was an angel
and all i do is make things painful