The Misunderstanding

This is not something that I’m used to Allowing people to see me Because that’s when I outright get emotionally greedy A neglected child, who’s offering to feed me I feel lost and cold, life isn’t too easy Approaching my adulthood all these thoughts should be beside me But I can’t count how many times I’ve just wanted to cry out for my mommy Or better yet my father Yeah pops, where are ya? Do you know what you did, the choices you made corrupted the life I live How I can’t cry out loud because I’m afraid they’ll hear And they’ll laugh and scream at my pain like you once did I’m 17 years old and I’ve felt 30 since I was 9 But I’ve got shit to do; my race is on the line I’m a black female in America; my mistakes will cause mass hysteria My era already corrupted by babies having babies But not to worry cause this baby likes ladies Another thing to worry about, Catholics see me and they pout But I’ll be okay; I’m going to make it in this hell hole Even though I’ll have to do so with wet eyes and a red nose