Things were never easy at home.
Something was always wrong.
No matter what my dreams were,
they never lasted very long.
My mother was an aweful woman,
but my father always saved me.
I loved him with all of my heart.
He taught me to believe.
I had tried everything to make mom happy,
but she was filled with hate.
I knew if anything changed,
it would already be too late.
I knew I couldn't take it.
That week dad passed away.
My mother blamed me for his death,
and kicked me out that day.
A cardboard box I call my home.
You'll never see me cry,
but if you pass me on the street,
you'll see how hard I've tried.
