He took me under his wing, and said it would be okay.
I'll be okay. I believed him for some time, until that very day.
He made me cry and battered me, until the sun went down.
There was hardly then a time I did not wear a frown.
I understood what love was, or so I thought back then,
he and I would be together till the very end.
"I understand, I understand!" I cried with glee and joy.
Until some nine months later, I had a baby boy.
I named him Jesus in the name of God, as my emblem of good luck.
It turns out now, the choice was wrong, and I don't give a fuck.
Life has done such wrong to me, and now I feel the shame.
Only when it is too late, and I'm the one to blame.
I never should have listened, to what he said or did.
For in the eyes of the lord, I still am just a kid.
A tender morsel of despair, shedding, from my skin.
And only now, I am the one, who has eternal sin.
I am left alone now, with Jesus at my side.
He is calling "Mommy, please don't say goodbye!"
I tried to make him understand, by telling him no lie.
"Mommy's going somewhere, she'll return in July."
For this I know not why I said, I wouldn't tell a lie.
My real intentions were not as such, I just wanted to fly.
Sailing away from my own shit would put me more at ease.
But how could I just stand the thought, with me own boy's pleas.
His father left me with bruises and a scar.
And now he is no longer here, to guide us to the star.
My crucifixes bring me here, the house in which I live, along with little Jesus, who is, himself, a kid.
He has no means for guidance, in his life, short-lived.
I only hope his saviour, won't do what "Daddy" did.
I spend my days in churches, speaking to the lord.
Praying for that little boy, and his little whores.
He's turning out to be the son, I'd never hoped he'd be.
For at the age of just eleven, he is father of three.
I find it just so hard to think, that once that whore was me.
When I was merely thirteen, I thought I'd found my glee.
Just one small encounter had left me lost at sea,
and now I am the only one, to look right back at me.
In the mirror I stare, into my devilish eyes.
Wondering if I ever did masque my harsh demise.
I believe that I've done wrong, with this devil girl inside.
For I've had sex with Satan, the good Lord in disguise.....
By
"Music Notes"
