• Mom I tried to keep up in school,
    you'd always told me I was smart
    I couldn't understand what they were saying
    it's was all just a string of meaningless words
    And when my grades began to drop
    inside you fell apart
    I withdrew from the school
    claiming they were bad teachers
    So now I sit at home in a desk
    getting older
    becoming so emotionless
    I tell you I don't understand the work
    you told me I was just too lazy to try
    I taught myself things like arts and trades
    but you never acknowledged it
    and i don't know why
    months have passed and I haven't learned a thing
    school would be ending
    but for me
    it never made it past the beginning
    "then at least let me get a job"
    I asked, scraping pennies for a ride
    "Don't expect me to pay for your insurance or car" you said
    "I can afford a motor bike," I tried.
    "I'd never let you get one, they're way too dangerous."
    Within I was thinking,
    at this rate how will I survive?
    "I need a job so I can learn to take car of myself."
    "You need to go to school before anything else."
    No matter how many times I told you I couldn't understand anything
    all you care about is what you believe is protecting me
    But I need to learn how to protect myself
    days are passing and I'm getting older,
    I'm already so far behind in school
    I'm your daughter, not you're prisoner mom
    one day I will be gone
    and You can't protect me anymore
    and at this rate I can't support myself
    ‘cause you're denying me the things that prepare me for the outside world
    because I'm your "Precious little girl".
    How precious will I be?
    In ten years when I'm begging for food on the streets?
    cause I never finished high school,
    never got my degree
    And I couldn't get a job
    because I couldn't get a ride
    and you wouldn't let me go
    just kept me locked inside
    how precious will I be?
    When my clothes are ripped and dirty?
    cause no one would hire a drop out
    because you wouldn't get me help
    how precious will I be?
    When the snow is sinking into my thin ripped sheet?
    And I'm coughing and dying
    under a shaking bridge crying?
    but don't worry
    it hasn't happened yet
    and who knows
    maybe my words will be strong enough to touch some hearts
    Maybe I’ll become a painter and make masterpieces of art
    or even a singer, you don't need a degree there
    a designer or construction worker
    lord knows you don't need an education for those careers.
    getting ******** up in Hollywood
    or who knows, the corner pays well too
    but whoring isn't legal in this state
    either way I'd have to move
    so the next time you see a homeless woman
    or trashed up movie star
    or hooker in this sodden world
    Take a moment to think for a second
    "That could be my Precious little girl."