Dependent Poem by Ima Ryma

Long, long into my adulthood
I lived in my parent's basement.
Dependent life felt very good.
All in all I was quite content.
From time to time my folks would try
To persuade perhaps I should be
More independent, they'd just sigh
As I kept my dependency.
In a car crash both parents died.
To pay their debts their house was sold.
And I was forced to live outside
In a world that was hard and cold.

Live on my own, I'm ill equipped,
So moving into my folk's crypt.