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people think, I'm mean
I'm not, I just don't smile much
I got that from when I was a child
I'm a nice person
with a defined drawn line
and I don't mind
pushing you over it
if you get, too close to me
trust me, I'll speak for a while
then you won't hear a peep
out of me
I'm slow to anger
even though my mother
poked me with a coat hanger
and fed me nasty castor oil
before I was formed
I don't want to cause an alarm
but, that's how I was harmed
if you can't trust, your own mother
how can you trust another
I'm just saying, I'm not playing
it always starts at home
she should have, left me alone
but, if she did, I wouldn't have
had a reason to write this poem
