Mother tell me, are you lying?
Mother please, I'm sick of trying.

These thoughts and feelings I can't ignore,
as I lay upon the floor.

Broken, tired, and abused.
Won't you bring me some good news?

Countless times I've broke down crying,
mother please, am I dying?

Is there something that can be done,
to take away this pain I'm hiding?

Love is a bullet and Life is the gun.
Hate is what brings about senseless fighting.

Mother, you see how I feel.
Yet it's what I hide that matters.

Mother, Mother, here's the deal.
The outside stays fine while the inside shatters.

Mother, is this real?
Oh dear Mother, will I heal?