Parents Are Terrible Liars, I Knew All Along
It Wasn’t My Place To Speak
The problem with parents is that they think they are good liars but they aren’t. They are pretty terrible at it, to be frank. It’s either that or a child’s youthful exuberance blinds them, leaving them oblivious to the ailments of our parents. Or the truth, you can say it however you want. I was not deceived at all, I just didn’t let it get in the way of my fun.
The problem is my parents saw a lack of waves, and quiet weather and they began to wilter. All I wanted to do was lessen their burden. The treasures and booties of others did entice me but I was not lulled by their songs because I could not take more blood and sweat from my parents than I already had. If I could give my own, I would, but at the same time, I did not want to.
I was but a mere child. My salary was but drink and snacks and I wouldn’t give it up, unfortunately.
So I was happy in my small boat, I did not have to go down the stream to be merry. With a little breeze here, a little breeze there, I moved. Even if the footprints of the boat were minute. I moved. The boat they gave me, I treasured it. I will not lie and say I would not have been happier with a new sail but the one I had was not bothered too much and neither was I, so, let me slow dance with my merry boat.
