Naomi

My parents say i'm torn, oh they used to create, you wouldn't know how forlorn, women with single children, state you'll be okay, just don't give in, Our Lady knows my form, no matter what games they play, such an ill hearted home, my Pa was unfaithful, lost within his ways, now he is mainly ill, I only asked for warmth, without any praise, it's my child's communion, don't wish to be unforgiving, but i no longer sway, before their sad mission, straitened by obeying.