Not there
You were the first I ever saw
the first people I knew
monsters I'd become to hate
luckily I wasn't saved too late
treated me like dirt
you did
a child in misery
but you would not care
I had become dirt myself
back then
now I've grown
from a lark into a swan
and now your daughters
have become larks
instead of me
Yet I should not be ungrateful
for the care I got
you took me under your roof
even if it wasn't all the lot.
Papa has learned me to be kind
to everything good
I have not yet made up my mind
if you were good or not
You are still hiding in your lair
from the past
unsteady and vast
but luckily I've surpassed my history,
and I'm no longer there.