On the stage of my youthful years,
trying to step the way they steer.
You know they, as the ones before.
Always striving to please them so much more.
Trying my best I thought I'd achieve,
but not in there eyes as they perceive.
For anger so fierce, so strong and bold.
Is what I get, so, me they scold.
These scars I bare, so deep, so sore,
who is to blame? But the ones before.
So now I move on and up in years,
and when I look back I shed more tears.
For thoughts of pain and so much more
are still in my mind, from the ones before.
It's a daily struggle to stay alive.
Battling urges of the past to survive.
Fighting the odds to become like them,
abusing us children again and again.
So for now I am the one before,
and I Love my children so much more.