The last thing

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When I cry

you surely know why.

So don't look up to the sky

as if you wouldn't care.

If you could just listen to the words I have to share,

I would feel so much better.

And if you don't want to listen,

I'll write you a letter

with all the things that you should know.

Because I don't really know if you know them already.

Through all these years, your love was so unsteady.

You made me feel insecure,

because I really wasn't sure,

if you care about your children.

Yes, you gave us food, a house to live in and clothes.

But could you please tell me where the love was?

So many times you broke our hearts like glass.

And now I am supposed to feel loved?

Why are you always laughing when I ask you to help me?

You tell me that I'm small and that I don't know how life works.

Oh, I see.

It's because of the "boss" you try to be.

You feel so strong,

putting down people,

who try their best while going through hell.

Your hell.

But just go on.

I tell you what you really are.

You are pathetic.

Pathetic, because you made so many people cry.

You. Just. Don't. Care.

Could you at least try?

Try to be a nicer person?

Or is it, again, too much to ask for?

I know, for you it is.

So let me close the door,

which leads you to me.

I just want to be free.

Let me say goodbye.

This will be the last thing from me you'll hear.

This will be the last year.

The last year of being in fear.

I'm through

with being in fear of you.

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