having trouble with thinkin of things to write
its simple but as i said, having trouble with comeing up with any thing
Bastard
More broken glass at 2:35,
He shows up looking for a fight,
Daddy to my sister and no one to me
Drunken and stoned he believes he has all say,
Shouting and yelling at his former family,
Screaming “you aint my fuckin kid”
Those words ring out through my mind,
Nothing I can do as a child,
Years later still have to hear it on and on,
The ringing of the phone marks another chapter, another scene
Never ending alcohol breath spewing from the rotted hole In his poisoned head,
Night after night, week after week
Sick of living with out rest,
Grab the bat and end this scene in this play called a life