Analysis of Lies

I live to see fairies,kisses and happy endings
sitting in the parlour,
thinking of the lies you've told me as a child,
listening and breaking away from the salubrious place we've build.

you called yourself my saint,
when you are wasted away drinking whisky and bottles of alcohol
rotting teeth and smelly skin that appears to be pale
you would make yourself a smorgasbord,
to satisfy your growling stomach
or how you would call out my name to see if you have a company to accompany you in your drink

I would hide,
seeing a lot of slattern beings on your body,
as I hear swishing sound and mourning from the room,
hiding and crying listening to the terrible lies you've told me as a child.

where is mother?where is she?where did she go?
I would run those thoughts in my mind ,
and cry out her name in a whisper to pass this dreadful place,
thinking of the unforgiving lies you've told me as a child.