You nag, lecture, insult intelligence;
Say things to me I would ne’er say to you.
You have towards me no empathetic sense;
Your words are bitter like vegetable stew.
You accept me not for how I exist,
Though I tease you not for your own odd ways.
Tension festers like a malignant cyst,
And shall haunt me towards the end of my days.
You bore me false witness and helped me cheat,
Instead of giving better solution,
And scorned me with a far harsher beat
To suppress familial revolution.
My wounds run deeper than those which you see;
I love you not how you claim to love me.
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