To be your child.

What would it mean to be your child?

Would you still be proud?

And when they refuse to treat me right, 

Would you stand up and be loud?

A kid simplified and broken down

Reduced to a microphone in their hand,

The notes that leave their lips.

This child is more than this.

“You are my daughter”

Every Day I sit

In a spine-crushing chair.

And I’m not sure how I take it,

The nicotine in the air

Do the others even care?

I’m shaking in my chair.