When I was growing up, Laws were just too lenient, 

My mom would beat my sisters, 

And me, we were convenient, 

She'd say "your a loser just like your father, 

I'd cry for help, 

But no one would bother, 

I never had a friend, 

It was just too risky, 

My mom was just to violent, 

Mom please put down the whiskey, 

We all have our stories, 

This is a small chapter, 

Imagine growing up, 

With tears instead of laughter.