Empty bottles, stolen pills.
This isn’t a game; it’s for real.
You’re my father; I’m your daughter.
I say I love you, but why do I bother?
You lay there wasted on what isn’t yours,
You’re starting to do this more and more.
You lay there listless, lifeless in the bed,
For once in my life, I wish you were dead.
Mother fussing over your shallow breath.
Haven’t I seen enough of this yet?
So many tears I have cried.
So many times I was afraid that you would die.
But you’ve done this time and time again.
Why must I pay for your selfish sin?
 
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