Gold Star
Sometimes I sit and ponder
what it may be like
to have parents, not always
looking for a petty fight
the love you feel, always
being there for you
day o' night
I wake up fighting a
constant battle,
I feel like I am in a circus
having to jump through hoops
my parents hold
to earn their admiration and
approval
Earning their gold star
for the day
I was a rebel since day one
not trying to conform
dancing to the beat of a
different drummer
Wishing to be accepted
for who I want to be
and how I seek to spend my hours
nothing I ever do, seems to be good
enough
They talk about "emotional deposits"
i.e. spending time with them
but they spend too much time
picking and proving
reacting wrong, saying ignorant assumptions
they push me away, each day
'further and further I go
as soon as I make enough money
I'm gone
They act as if my artistic mind
couldn't make money
like my dreams are distant relatives
of which I will never meet
but I strive to prove them wrong
Its bad enough being
one person versus the world
but when the army you fight
is led by your family, your blood
it's twice as hard to get up
in the morning, when the suns
rays dance on my closed
eyelids
I try my best to be the kind
of person I want to be
despite their efforts to kill off
my individualistic soul
I have given up trying
to belong to which I
was born unto
I'm simply playing the game
Hoping to win, one day
the chance to be myself
as I feel emulates me,
and regardless
have a proud
Mommy and Daddy
I do pray, I shall be
free to be
Heather Rose Marie
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