I once went home late
With my left ear pierced
And my scent, so bad,
is of the cigarette.
My mom cried.
My father slapped me
on my face.
And they yelled. . .
'You've gone wild'
Am I really dire?
I changed, did I?
I wept so bad.
Maybe yes.
Maybe not!
I honestly have no idea.
But in my heart I shout!
That my pierced ear
Longs for my father's words
of love and concern.
He doesn't know.
That in every cigarette I take,
I long for my mother's fervent sigh
of terms of affection and care.
My mom never realized.
When will they see
That behind this rebel lady
Is still the little girl they used to adore?
Im still their little baby who cried when she lose her balloon.
