Hedonistic pride

My life was an agreement

Born to serve

Born to live up to expectation

Stripped of honour and friends

Kept in a box, away from the world like some dirty secret

Kept silent by oppressors

They need to keep me down, lest I run away

But they forgot I was made from them

Stuff of stubborn integrity and hedonistic pride

Those were the qualities of my parents

My father’s integrity wore into me

Making me love the world and keep to strong morals

Don’t lie, don’t steal, be honest and stay real and learn to forgive

Whilst my mother put everything aside for fun and dance and games

Throwing people into the garbage if they didn’t think the same

She tried to clone me as herself

But instead I was repelled from her toxic potion

Deny me of emotion?

I grew cold and hard

I saw through her and I read books

Lots of books on psychology and how to

Books about courageous people and faking it until you make it

Eventually her crocodile tears didn’t move me anymore

That made it easier to walk out of the door

She only cried to keep me

But those tears were not real

She had my life to steal

You are a girl, you should be my nurse

I would graciously stay and do it too

But she wouldn’t let me live and drove nails into my heart daily

Until I grew to hate my biggest bully in life

No more excuses for her

She sought to destroy everything about me, so I would have nothing but her

A mother’s job is to nurture and she didn’t let me thrive

Stole every ounce of energy, confidence and more she tried

But I was half like her you see, I had hedonistic pride

I wanted to live and to party too

I wanted to sometimes to wear her shoes

I loved her but she didn’t me

Because if she did, she’d let me be free

A mother wants the best for her kids

She needs them to thrive

So they survive without her

But this she did deny

I chose to leave but keep in touch

I had a son and home

But she sought to destroy my little life and knock me off my throne

I saw the emotional poisons she concocted for my boy

I had enough of her, using me and him as toys

So I said goodbye one final time and closed my door to her

Because it is life that I prefer

Not to be locked away alone

Having no one left for me, when her life has turned her to bone

Happy Birthday to me, this poem is about why I existed and how things didn’t work out for the planner.