I have always been the kind to mother
Had the need to know what is wrong
Needing others to trust and confide
To allow me to stand by their side
I thrive from being someone special
A person they know they can turn to
Or the only one to get the job done
From these things, you will not see me run
So why is it that I run from other things?
I run from my family, and the problems within
I run from myself, and the demons I possess
I run myself straight into a mess
Maybe it it because-
In my family, I am not the mother
To others, I try to appear perfect
Till finally, the top of the mess, I can no longer detect
So how do I fix what has been discovered
For an epiphany I have had
No longer can the pattern continue
Because for so long- that is what has been the issue
