Tied up in my emotions, I felt abused— But sadly couldn’t profuse. Yo, yo feelins— A toy for misuse. He said, “You dead anyway.” Bust him again! Thought sin and said, “Okay, Dad... I’m sleepy anyway.” She don’t like no boy— “You creepy anyway.” I said love in life was a lie. She thought, “Excuse.” Said God was the reason. Felt my side and thought I’d try. Still, Grandpa’s liquor was trill. Couldn’t have it any realer. Ended up feeling picked on and sicker. Pops made me see a picture While he was focused on a figure— Both fiscal and physical. It got integral, How he played on her spiritual. Mad, I couldn’t vent, you know, ‘Cause Pops and his side Is deadlier than serial. Played me like a flute, Played her like Minicell. Laid ashamed As I had grief in my bed. I felt ill— Finally knowing How the violin feels.