Sellout Son

Sellout Son

By: Tyler Ross

You would think being raised in a low to middle class

Would erase my complaints and resort me to speak of the past

You’ve got it wrong, oh you’ve got it wrong

I will never go back and relive those days with pop and ma

A big fucking smile plasters my face

I escaped

What’s done is done and the world needs to know my place

In this fucking world you’ve got to learn from your mistakes (I know I’ve learned!)

You bet your ass I won’t be repeating those things I did in that living space

Hoisted from a master’s degreed ball player and a security guard slash housewife

Those two fucking lovers loved, but did it fucking wrong raising life

They worked their fingers to the bone and neglected to save their home

But who can blame non-planned parents

A classic household with two sons, but one forced to grow alone

I don’t hate the path of my old man or the efforts birthed from my own mom

They weren’t ready to have us kids, but did the best to get along

Those fights that rocked our home or the fear from their own touch

It’s those days I can’t replace and those nights it got so rough

They did the best they could and I didn’t do much to help

I just left them alone and mostly raised nothing but hell

So who would want a son that causes his creators so much grief?

A fucking sellout son, who was just too cold and a conniving fucking leech

Obtained from my own mom

You know the story of the dad, who wasn’t around

He was there, but didn’t care even when I made a sound (Don't blame him)

Popular in directing attention to my troubled ways

Stayed educated, questioning everything and looked ahead to better days

For those who’ve gotten this far (Fiction this be at best)

You should know my parents were better than most providers

A learned storyteller, I confess

But I just wasn’t all that great

I sold them out to be a liar

When speaking about them terribly seven years to this date

This is dedicated to the individuals, but ruined by the gullible masses