Bow down, to the Controller.

Dedicated to the woman I call my mother.

Mom,

Look at this!

Isn't it cool?

It isn't?

Well, why not?

 

It's not guyish!

Or gothic!

MOM,

It's what I like!

I'm not a barbie doll.

 

I know I don't fit;

In your standards.

But I'm your child.

And you're my mother.

I'm your puppet.

And you're the controller.

 

So I'm starting to think,

From now on,

My opinion doesn't matter.

It only makes you angry with me.

My thoughts are weak,

Compared to my controller's.

Author's Note

I know it's not my best; I typed it out on my phone out of anger and pure boredome. But please review; and yes, me and my mom fight a lot. basically because my choice of clothing. but whatever; one day she won't be in power anymore. :D

Reviews

[snapstache]

:) this is sooo good :) ahhh cnt wait for you to get home :) I hate how I can't tell my mom about music and stuff I like :) she just stares at me oddly :) great job
*.*

[.]

as my mother used to say, 'brats grow up and have brats of their own' . Never until you become a mother will your relationship make sense. I argued with my mum and left home at sixteen to be my own person. She's now my best friend. You wrote an expressive piece, full of emotion, good read

[Angie Diane♥&hea..]

I think this is a good poem. I feel like I am controlled by a lot of people though. I think it's good though. I liked it a lot. :D
Thanks for sharing. :)