Growing Up

I grew up at the age of seventeen

House in disarray, everybody’s obscene

Had to do whatever just to put food on the table

And live within my own insecure delusion of being pseudo-stable

I hurt people bad and did them wrong while fueling my own ire

I denied them all the chance at life, and threw my friends into the fire

I watched them cry in disbelief when all was said and done

And scorned myself as I felt the draining of any chance of fun

Mom was distant towards the end until she went away

I joked and laughed and told myself that she’d be better one day

Most of all the front I had was to make my brother smile

But I was wet from wading in the waters of denial

Dad was mean, spiteful, cruel and all around confusing

I knew he loved us no matter what but I did not find it amusing

How he would cut and burn and sting and mar me towards regression

I tried to die by my hand six times and each failure deepened my depression

Mental illness running wild slowing me down to a crawl

Drugs were all that made me sane until I hit withdrawal

But the drugs I took were not illegal, but prescribed by my head doctor

But everything became enigmatic, insipidity without a proctor

But I rose up and became much stronger and reimagined my ideals

My morals hardened and reminded me what things chaos reveals

I’m doing better nowadays, since I’ve corrected all that was wrong

But it chills me still to think that there were times where I was almost gone

Growing up was pretty rough and filled with lots of strife

More than once did I dance along to the swing of the reapers scythe

But looking back on all I’ve done I would not change a thing

For it made me into the man I am, and that’s a song I’d sing