My life is not a fairytale
I hate that I'm weak
I hate that my divorce parents fight all the time for stupid things:
Money
School
Relationships
Money
And did I mention, money?
I hate fighting with my mom
And I'm the one who has to get hurt
I hate my parents treating me like a child
I'm not a child
I'm nobody's baby
I hate getting hurt
Because I can still feel the pain
Physically and mentally
Even if the evidence is gone.
Why me?
Why do I have to be to stop all of the stupid violence?
Can't someone else do it?
Not me?
I'm just a teenager
I may be close to being an adult
But...
If I can't handle being at home
How will I handle being in the real world?
Life is definitely not a fairytale.
I know that much...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem