I want to be my mother’s daughter.
The kind that makes her so proud that she doesn’t resent her own father.
But sometimes I wonder, why bother?
I’m sure the damage has been done
And that nothing has been won.
So why push any farther?
Because I want to be her redemption.
Her lemonade on a summer day,
Her new Bengay, her creme brûlée!!
To show her just how much she’s made
With the little that he gave.
But if I only live for her
And no one else lives just for me
Then I’m as empty as can be.
… And some think that empty means free
But that’s not how it should be.
I should be free to just be ME.
That’s not me preaching….
That’s my plea.