The Controlled Daughter Blues

You ask me what I want to do with a premeditated answer in your head.

Not really trying to hear me out, but trying to direct me instead.

It's not that I'm easily persuaded or can't make decisions for myself,

It's just that it's hard to go in one direction when everyone's pulling me someplace else.

And I know you think this is what's best and maybe you are right.

But sometimes you have to let me decide how to live my life.

I'm not even under the same roof but still doing what you want me to do.

Then you say I'm an adult and your proud of me while I'm actually living through you.

And the sad part is, the ones who read this poem are the only ones who'll know.

Cause I'll never be able to say this to you without it turning into a show.

A hold on me you'll always have even if I break the news,

I guess you could call this poem of mine the controlled daughter blues.