You have them where you want them
Arms long enough to keep the distance
Measured in limbs rather than miles,
But really it's an attitude, state of mind
That you kid yourself you are someone else
Have grown beyond the childhood jibes
You are your own person, though damaged
The scars are easier to hide

Then they go and die on you
There is sadness and tears, but really
What I am crying for is me, for the life
I was denied. She never said she loved me
Was never proud of what I did or who I was
A source of disappointment even down to
Being a boy, I say the words I should have
Spoken, over and over in my mind.