Broken
As a kid I always believed
When my Mama and Papa says
"That's bad and that's good"
Don't do that and do this"
Because I know, they know best
One time I saw them talking,
I can't hear them,they talk almost a whisper
Then I saw Mama kneeling,begging
Like a beggar with misty tears
But Papa push her and walk to the door
With a bag on the right hand
And a doll on its left
He come towards me with a smile on his lips
While saying this,as if nothing happened
"Hello sweetheart, Papa will go
And surely will miss you"
So, take this while I'm gone
They forget the day pass
I already grow,the innocent gone..so I know
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