How is it fair,
To expect from me perfection.
When you raised me
On the sins of your own imperfections.
How is it fair,
To expect me to accomplish dreams.
When you raised me
On your dreams death bed.
How is it fair,
To ask me to stop being a child.
When you raised me
On the expectations of being an adult.
How is it fair,
To ask me to forget my pain,
When you raised me
On the misery that was your pain.
How is it fair,
To decide my adult fate,
When you raised me
On your own unchosen fate.
How is it fair,
To decide my joy.
When you raised me
On your life of joylessness.
How is it fair that you ask anything of me at all…
It’s Not My Time – 3 Doors Down