Stacks of books litter the floor,
Brown paper doodled and torn.
A lone guitar hangs on the door,
Strings neither strummed nor worn.
The bestest friend cries on the phone,
Her boyfriend's acting strange.
I'm tired of hearing the same old drone,
I fear nothing will ever change.
Piles of clothes flung on the chair,
It's party night once more.
I slam the door, "I DON'T CARE!"
Isn't mom just the biggest bore?
Yet the tears stream down my face,
"Please can I my life exchange?
So what if I party? I just need my space!
I fear nothing will ever change."
Heaps of files sit on the table,
The deadline's coming close.
"You're smart and strong, and really quite able,"
And everybody knows.
My eyelids droop, my arms go limp,
"Wash... the... dishes.... cupboard arrange..."
I can't do this. I'm such a wimp.
I fear nothing will ever change."
The husband walks in, tired, beat,
He's late again today.
The 10-year-old runs to greet,
His dad snaps, "Go away!"
Shaking now, I call up mom,
"I fear my doubts will derange,
I just can't seem to shake this qualm.
I fear nothing will ever change."
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