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?