We're free
To do, to say, to be
Whatever makes you proud of me
I can oblige, I don’t agree
I can't see eye to eye, you see
I'd lie to try evade that sigh
Assumed reply consumed by why
I had no say conceived the sky
Each passing day perceived too high
Trespassing lay bereaved to die
Til watered ground believed too dry
The forest falls; no use to cry
You never asked to be born to any life
Your say, it mattered none
If ever tasked to bring morning with a knife
Poor day, pit-pattered sun
Wore spray, spit-spattered gun
Swore stay, sit-shattered spun
Floor display wit tattered won
Door away fitted undone
***** will say bitter begun
A score to play hit her home run
Too poor to pay **** owing one
A roar made sore ripcords I tore
Demanding, MORE!
Standing, what for?
No landing, or
Backhanding, or
Still stand ignore
Can't stand no more
Line by line; meaning for the first portion:
They tell us we can be whatever we want to be
that we can speak freely, that the world is our oyster.
But here, I'm only free to become that which you wish of me.
Although I acquiesce, I resent it.
We don't hold the same standards.
I spin fables of what I've done, and hide that which I do, to keep from hearing that heavy sigh of disappointment.
Saying less gives you more room to see me as the daughter you wish I were.
I didn't ask to be born.
I didn't ask to be born with a disorder that requires medications that used to make me into a monster.
I'm ready to go, every night that I lay down
Water the grave with the tears, now dried up
If a tree falls and no one is around to hear it, why bother making a sound?
