Gold Star

Sometimes I sit and ponder what it may be like to have parents, not always looking for a petty fight the love you feel, always being there for you day o' night I wake up fighting a constant battle, I feel like I am in a circus having to jump through hoops my parents hold to earn their admiration and approval Earning their gold star for the day I was a rebel since day one not trying to conform dancing to the beat of a different drummer Wishing to be accepted for who I want to be and how I seek to spend my hours nothing I ever do, seems to be good enough They talk about "emotional deposits" i.e. spending time with them but they spend too much time picking and proving reacting wrong, saying ignorant assumptions they push me away, each day 'further and further I go as soon as I make enough money I'm gone They act as if my artistic mind couldn't make money like my dreams are distant relatives of which I will never meet but I strive to prove them wrong Its bad enough being one person versus the world but when the army you fight is led by your family, your blood it's twice as hard to get up in the morning, when the suns rays dance on my closed eyelids I try my best to be the kind of person I want to be despite their efforts to kill off my individualistic soul I have given up trying to belong to which I was born unto I'm simply playing the game Hoping to win, one day the chance to be myself as I feel emulates me, and regardless have a proud Mommy and Daddy I do pray, I shall be free to be Heather Rose Marie