Bee

Bee.

Sometimes,

I just can't stand her buzzing around with her noise.

Can't rebut, can't shut her up.

Always correct me,

things that are not mistakes,

by the way.

And I'm always better than her, alright?

She thought she's full of knowledge,

true enough,

fool of knowledge.

Her teaching is more like venting anger

on those beautiful kids.

Seen in my eyes,

the painful sting.

Some influence are indeed important,

however, never useful,

always negative,

just as she is.

Not her fault,

as she was also a victim.

Once bitten, twice shy.

Couldn't help but see.

Couldn't mend the broken piece.

P.S The "her" will never be my mum :)

Writing poems helps to express your anger,

alternatively :)