Tonight my past flashed before my brown eyes
The same ones that could look past the pain and lies
So that once and for all there could be clear perception
Of the skeletons which we kept hidden by deception
What I saw brought no joy, only agony in excess:
My mother, with her hand to her head in distress
Watching with cold eyes as you screamed hate
At your small daughters who were upset and irate
There were three of us, all planned to run away
So one day we may finally have a day
Where we wouldn’t have to endure
The torment of your words, which you were sure
Would make me and my sisters the perfect daughter
My mother was a cold mother, you were a worse father.