We teach our children to respect others,
It is something we come to expect.
It seems that the older they become,
The manners they tend to forget.
I am tired of being your welcome mat.
I am tired of being your personal slave.
I know these things I did not teach you,
I showed you how you should behave.
You yell at me as if I do not matter.
You make mistakes and blame me.
I think you should look closely in the mirror,
Your mistakes are on you, not on me.
I ask for consideration of my plans,
You stand me up nearly every time.
For you say you have things to do
Forget that I have mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem