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It's sad to see you fall.
It makes me cry, to see you crawl.

Substance abuse is painful to see.
If you would know, you would agree.
That it's torture and Hell.
Feelings become show and tell.
Only when permitted to the sightless.
The emotions of the sane, become restless.
Hardly sane at all.
Turning the most beautiful, into a bathroom stall.

I tried to make you stop.
I tried to make you cease to skin pop.

But you continued anyway.
Only with a minimal delay.
Making believe you wouldn't keep at it.
That your proverbial path was once again lit.
You disappoint me.
Because you were always supposed to see.
You are my parent, my mother.
But you open beers one after another.

After all the things you put me through.
You will and still always continue.

Even after the jail sentence.
Not an ounce of repentance.
From your past deeds.
Your empty and shallow needs.
The pain you feel, I felt.
Before the very church stairs, I knelt.
Praying for a sign.
Anything to keep you in line.

But you never care.
You never were taught how to play fair.

To you, I'm just a good girl, your prodigy.
Something created to give yourself a chance to live freely.
I'm the only grown up here.
While my eyes tear.
So continue with your substances and drugs.
I'll play on with my "meaningless" shrugs.
Praying for a God that never came.
And knowing that in the end, always will stay the same.

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