I am so sorry. I know I am worst daughter.
Always demanding. Mood always hotter.
I am reckless I am careless.
I am such a “Fattu” still call myself fearless.
Always chirpy, wild and bold.
Thanks for the blankets when the nights were cold.
Things have changed I am not same anymore.
There is no generation gap. I am not me anymore.
I have all the “P” in my life.
Periods, Parents, peer, pressure all are cutting me like knife.
From those friendly punches things went strange
Now there are only arguments our mood never change
I miss old us. The things we use to do.
Those long evening walks and stupid paintings we drew
Growing up isn’t easy we part our ways
All we can do is take some time out and relive those old days