Mother Knows Best

Sometimes I reflect on my own thoughts,

Thinking “Why even think that?”

Cause at the end of the day I am usually the one in the wrong

Which I don’t mind being wrong.

I usually know right from wrong.

But there are some days,

Where I don’t understand why I am wrong.

Why it seems like

to others

I’m speaking a 

whole 

different 

language.

Sometimes I think to myself,

“Why are you like that?”

Because no one seems to understand

Why I’m the way

That I am.

Sometimes I wonder,

If what our parents do—

Specifically our mothers,

Always put our happiness

First.

But instead of being wrong for feeling that way,

I wish,

Just maybe.

That they would take off the rose-colored glasses,

And see;

That maybe it’s not my fault.

It’s theirs.