Moody
I hate my father's double expectations
I hate my mother's indirect accusations
I hate the responsibilities only I need partake
I hate being left in my brother's wake
I hate how they think so little of me
I hate how I keep it all secret, not free
I hate how they all are oblivious to truth
I hate this, I hate them, they've stolen my youth
I hate these feelings I cannot shake
I hate these morals I need to break
I hate that when I'm gone the whole thing will shatter
But then I remember I'm dead, it doesn't matter