Can't Understand.

I was always there, they are never here. Perhaps it’s coming of age, perhaps my exes rage. I could sing the blues, but I paint in happier hues. My peace is everything, they’re judgment nothing.

My love is undying, the fight has been trying. Should it be a fight, to have my kids in my life? They throw stones, judging my actions and home. What they don’t see, is the pain that’s inside me.

Fight harder? Worthless advice indeed. Shouldn’t be a fight, to me it would seem, Such a struggle, just for visitation once a month. No idiots it’s not me, it’s you’re family’s cunt.