Bastard Baby

CATEGORY

life

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I’m like most of America or at least of my kind

And like most of them I’m losing my mind

Some have already blown

And only their confusion is shown

We come from a home of one

Our caretaker does until the doing is done

And the one who planted the seed said take care

But we grew without his sunlight, but did we did him there

To many mammals this is their way of life

There is no relationship, no trying to get a wife

They just get in, get out, and their part is done

And the caring s left up to one

So what if he wasn’t here

So what if my cries he couldn’t hear

So what if he didn’t shield me from fear

So what if he couldn’t wipe the tear

The tear that occasionally falls from my eye

Not sad, when I’m mad is my worst cry

But he was what I am now, alone

Two different beings but many of our experiences clone

And like most of you I’m more confused than angry

More fearful of “like father, like son” theory

Will I do to my children what he did to me

Or choose to be what he was afraid to be

Leaving only makes things worst

In doing you insure the passage of this curse

That internally tears us all apart

Not having that figure messes up our mind and cracks our heart

If he went to jail we think, most know, that we’ll be in a cage

At the age of 15, lost and guided by rage

Mom, at that point has given up

All because by one man we were given up

We grow up not knowing if he ever wanted us

Wonder when he found out if it was nothing but a fuss

If you don’t worship the ground you step on then don’t plant the seed

Mother earth is strong, but she doesn’t determine if we become a weed

All he does is rain on us and it isn’t much

That could be depression, pain and other as such

And the occasional child support check from himself

Checks can’t support me co he needs to check himself

A piece paper can’t be there for me when I need it

Ask paper to take care of a child it can’t even feed it

To in short it’s pretty much meaningless

It just a small fix to an extraordinary mess

But in some form or another, the small fixes got us by

Well most of us anyway, the others chose to die

Gave up because that’s what he did

And he doesn’t see what he has done to his kid

But us who are alive keep living

But we don’t know why it’s our life we keep giving

I get up sometimes saying “What for?”

And motivation walks right out the door

Just like my father decided that’s what he wanted to do

And I find myself never finishing things too

So in that sense I’m just like him, it’s crazy

Man I hate the life of a bastard baby!