Backlap is the rap that haunts me to the core,
The screaming, the yelling, the reflection of my soul,
Built up in my children, my voices of the past,
Haunting, crying, demanding my time more, more, more.
Tag teaming, the screaming, no room for a breather,
Twelve year Olds up in the shits-a, crying poor.
Tense from the thought of school holidays, can’t face my fears, my own cryings poor.
Healing is hard, it’s ugly truth,
Right up in my face until I hit the roof,
Traits from my parents all bottled up tight, flying off the handle is how I saw them fight,
Now I am an adult, they belittle me, for they see their ways, so ugly,
I need to heal, my mind wants to hide, the deep dark hole is what it fears inside.
In I dare peep, ready to shine that light, blazing in my soul from the creator of right,
The one who walks with me through the shadow valley, the one who walks with me when things are full blazing,
I haven’t forgotten to be grateful to you, the one with the guiding rod, and the souls flashlight too.

Thank you God for watching and being with me on my healing path. Amen.