We package our lives with perfect bows,
Hiding our bumps, scars and woes.
Showing our best and hiding the rest.
Family gatherings are supposed to take precedence,
But now they are more of a nuisance.
This anger inside me has festered and boiled with rage.
I feel like I am concerned and fearful more than anyone my age.
All these fake ass bitches playing so perfect and tidy.
I have to wonder, what shit are they hiding?
I use to say hate was a powerful word, now I’m putting it out there, it needs to be heard.
People play happy in their shiny glass houses.
Well fuck you, even mansions have roaches and mouses.
You’ve built yourself so high that I live for the moment you fall and cry.