runaways

when i was twelve
on my future i did not dwelve
i was certain of myself, that i'm living just the forewords of
my life-to-be; these short sentences you put in your book before you let your story flow

how wrong i was. how foolish that was. how sad.
i wasted three years acting as someone that i'm not, like i was mad
now i'm a true vagabond, without a place i can certainly call home - just like you, dad.
are you proud? wrong tense, wait
would you be proud? seeing that we share a trait
we avoid every responsibility, every obligation, every debate
about what we did, what we want to do
we both ignore the fact that it's about the time that we grew

do you know what scares me the most?
the notion of you in me, that ghost
of you that'll always be there
that's a weight pretty hard to bear

hey dad
do you even remember that i'm your child?
or i'm just a reminder that your dreams and reality will remain unconciled

you know, i think of you every time i realise
that i screwed up, when i see disapproval in my mom's eyes

please, tell me, what can i do
to never become like you

if it's not too late to