I never asked you to be my dad,

To slap me around and treat me bad.

I never asked you to drink alcohol,

I never asked for anything at all.

I never asked for the hurt and pain,

Or for the nights that were half insane.

I never asked for fights that were wild,

Or to grow up a bewildered child.

I never asked you to beat up my mom,

Or for a blanket to help keep me warm.

I never asked you to leave me alone,

Or to grow up in a broken-down home.

I never asked for this horrible life,

Or for the conflicts, the quarrels and strife.

I never once asked that I be defiled,

Or to grow up a bewildered child.

I never asked to be raised in a prison,

Or to see darkness though the sun had risen.

I never asked you to raise Holy Hell,

Or for my bedroom to be like a jail cell.

I never asked to be used and abused,

Or to sit in my room dazed and confused.

I never asked for the crap that has piled,

Or to grow up a bewildered child.

I never asked for a brand-new bike,

Or for any toys that I used to like.

I never asked you to throw me a ball,

Or for the bruises when I took a “fall”.

I never asked once but I’m asking you now,

I hope you make me understand somehow.

How you could treat me so fucking bad,

I never asked you to be my dad.

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