All I can do is sit here and complain to my self
Letting the anxiety build up as the children cry
My mom not giving to **** about anything any more
Every one blaming me
And I guess they are right
It’s all because of me.

I try not to cry as they tell me how I don’t do **** around the house
Even though my hands are dry from washing all the dishes
And my back aches from caring my little sister till she falls asleep
But I am still “heartless and would let every one die”
Or at lest that what my father says  

All I can do is sit here and let them abuse me
Because if I speak up I would be a bad daughter
So I sit and wait for the day that I can stand be brave…..