Mother Hates Me
I don’t think my mom is a fan of me.
I find it funny. I don’t mean to laugh at you mommy.
My Mother, worries about me.
The Worrier, and I’m her little warrior.
She doesn’t like the idea of me being a Pro Wrestler.
But I chase other dreams too, I wanna be a Philsopher, and a Rapper.
She’s not fond of my habits or hobbies.
I’ve been looking up tattoos lately.
I have a couple ideas starting with my knees.
She doesn’t want tattoos on her baby’s knees.
She loves me but sometimes when she worries about me
She subconsciously treats me like a bad word, she tries to censor me.
She supports my dreams and wants nothing but the best.
She likes my new attitude. I dress to impress.
I live without stress.
I strategically and carefully play my life like a game of chess.
I do things because I wanna do these things. I think I passed the test.
I pushed crushes off the pedastal.
Climbed up on it and realized life ain’t so dull.
I think I’m over confident, I think I’m full.
Eyes are seeing Vision and Clairvoyance, there’s no wool.
I’m Fearless. I wanna chase dreams
I’m Fearless. Mom, I know it’s hard to hear this.
“Don’t Worry Mom”. But that’s when she worries the most.
She knows my ambitions and jokingly says I will drive her to drink and overdose.
Her bravery to understand me might comatose.
But I’m the ringmaster to my own circus. I’m The Host!
I’m the Captain to My Own Ship.
The Druggy to My Own Trip.
I’m Too Hip to be Mediocre.
I’m Fun, I’m Exuberant, even if you see me as The Joker or a Loser.
But I rather be that than a Poser.
In or Out of a Group, I still choose to be Leader.
Going out today for Another Adventure. A little sunlight and a cool breeze may avenge the cure.
As my mother stops me before I can walk out the front door.
“I love you”
But I know the truth, Mother Hates Me, I say Jokingly.