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Dear mother, dear father, you're our pied piper, lead us straight into hell. From the time our minds are fresh and unblemished, you begin filling them with your pollution. Every droplet of damage is a river that you pour into us, make your problems our problems. Use us as tools to win your wars.
Dear mother, dear father, just where, exactly, are you? We're all alone now, you showed us that it's not okay to go to you when we're in trouble. Now, we live without your guidance, without shoulders to cry on. We grow up early, and we get jobs and dream of leaving you. Our minds develop fast, and we are subject to more sophisticated problems, ones that you aren't even aware of.
Dear mother, dear father, you have children that wish they were never born. Because your minds have become damaged, and because you're unstable lunatics, you've convinced their helpless minds that they're the ones who are damaged. Only can you ever get along with them if they're apologizing to you for their existence.
Dear mother, dear father, your children think of death, and suicide. They cut themselves with things. They go through hard times that you've never even heard of, or things that you told them weren't a big deal. Things you shrugged off.
Dear mother, dear father, your children have gone through such hard times, they wish they died. Do you even know that? Do you know the black rivers of emotion and thought that whisper self destruction in their ears? Alone, in quiet places, they realize just how much nothing is by their sides. Sometimes in places full of people, they'll smile and shrug it off, maybe it's for you. Maybe they do this because they've been shown that their problems aren't to be mentioned. How dare their problems exist?
Dear mother, dear father, have you left your child all alone? Have you failed to feed them, and provide clothes, and a warm place to sleep? Have you failed to provide these things, and so much more? Mother, father, have you created a child that you didn't want? Is it because you don't want your child, that you are this way?
Mother, father, how sick will you make us? You become the malefactors of our very lives. You become the origin of what disgusts us, you made us insecure and afraid, and disgusted, and disappointed. You failed us.
Dear mother, dear father, don't you have time to even look at me? When was the last time you touched my skin, hugged me, told me you loved me, or did anything to make me feel like I belonged in this life? When was the last time you spent two seconds to acknowledge me, or something I did? Unspoiled, we grow up too fast, and we become cold. There will always be a side of us that the others can't understand.
Dear mother, dear father, don't you see just what it is you are? You're disgusting, and you're worthless. You're no good. Your children have looked to you, and they've been afraid, disappointed, sickened. Mother, father, we can't count on you. We dream of getting away from you.
Dear mother, dear father, just how damaged is your little one? Do they still try to include you in their feelings, despite the fact that you beat them down when they try? Do they still give you chance after chance when you fail them? Do they still cry and wish for death, because what you've shown them is a world that they don't belong in- your world?
Dear mother, dear father, fairy tales and lullabies are fiction... but we wish they were real, because mother, father, you belong in hell.