....I was born unhappy yet...into his misery...we all suffered with him..
the way of his unpleasant ways took the flowers and toys away.... I was unable to talk...for then I was stupid enough to live...
he was ashamed of me...of my foolish dreams...telling me I was just a beast ...didn´t realize I was a poet ...
then he continued..... in his own fame, glittering in my great pain...my fear ...
never apologized for these years of filth and the madness he brought into my heart...
I still fear the night ....bouncing into the walls...white turns red...
the blood was shed ...washed away by tears then ...many fears ..a horror ...instead ....
stupid thoughts...bringing me back....into failure...I didn´t want...It was not my fault....still wait for your phone call....