Keeping Up Appearances

Mother dearest don't you know? of the clean freak I've become. When people ask me where I'm from, I raise my finger to the plateau. Remember the dirt under my bed? it seemed like I really didn't care. Unfolded clothes still on my chair, my homework still new and unread. And what about all the chores? you would not even let me sleep; until I finished that linen heap, the blame was seldom ever yours. Have you forgotten of the guilt? I could not leave without consent. You fears would anchor me like cement, In the concrete prison that you built. So how many days did I remain? on this high risen ground of demand. For I was crippled and now I stand, on the surrounding fields of grain.