The scars they hide,
The real life,
Running deep,
In disarray,
Baby born,
Into fear of,
The father,
The man who thinks he its,
Blinded by rage,
And insecurities,
He hides behind his mask,
Praying the world will pass him by,
And his spawn will only be left,
Failing to notice,
That his world,
Is spinning Outta view,

And it will all be ending soon,
So don’t panic just yet,

The girl in the picture stands afraid,
That the “man”,
Shall soon return,
That voice in her head,
The bruises of her heart,
Tell of his return,
But her time is yet to come,
She will flourish,
You will see,
For she’s older than her time,
The little girl you see standing there,
Will become a queen,
But you will always say

But don’t you worry your little head,
For it will all be ending soon,

Her bravery read,
Cocked and primed,
As she walks into the night,
Leaving him there,
And pool of his own,
Left to fest on the night,
The baby will become,
A man one day,
And only like you in face,
For the mother knows that you’ll never show,
Certainty through Bullets,

And she will never have to worry,
For the son won’t grow up this way