Didn't Really Struggle (edited version)
our trampoline, our puppy, our trouble.
Blessed, my daddy was a provider.
My brilliant mother a slave to our home.
Happy memories of childhood,
no evil throwbacks to mention, to remember.
Blessed my parents taught me I was blessed.
My father's struggle to keep us on top,
staying working so he didn't have to see
what we had to grow up to be.
Always pressured to know,
if i wanted to grow,
it was on God, me n my knowledge.
On my way to a higher road, seeing happiness
as an unreachable star.
A star I wanted to reach.
Earning the red gown and cap that I was told
would give me the strength to grow.
Still feeling alone, confused inside
desiring to be something more
empty and high
deciding to stay on the path i was told was my core.
Figuring maybe if I wore that white gown,
this fire would stop and I would be free
to speak, think and act like I was me.
Wanting to follow him to heaven but getting dragged to hell.
Knowing without him I could do so well.
No way out, no matter the times I changed the place i dwelled.
So mad i couldn't resist, I began to insist,
"I deserved better".
Remembering I was blessed, my parents taught me I was blessed.
Knowing this was a chain that i had to break
it was the only way to make
my future unfold, to what i wanted to hold.
Breaking the pain, tempted to abstain,
not fearing, but lowering my head.
Still staying on top, no matter what.
No longer locked down by that iron wrought.
Not stopping, staying the path, until I drown.
In joy from a childhood that no evil could ever destroy.