You look at me as though I'm a child.
I'm not that five year old daughter anymore.
I've grown; matured.
But you can't see that, can you?
You say you trust me.
That's a horrible lie.
Inside, do you believe I'm untrustable?
Is that why I have no freedom?
I do everything you ask, and more.
I clean, to see your approval.
I cook, to hear your praise.
I'm responsible, but it's not enough.
When will it be enough?
What must I do to gain your trust?
How should I act to taste freedom?
Why can't you see I've become more than a child?
Why can't you see...I'm trying?

