Protest The Hero

"Kezia, my darling, please never forget this world's got the substance of a frozen summer silhouette,"
Said my mother through lips that were cracked with love and toil
before she added, "the warmest of blankets is six feet of soil"
She had a perfume called Pride that smelled a lot more like Shame
When she walked into the room I was sleeping, heard her curse my father's name;
It was our situation, our position, our gender to blame
It was the lonely grey of my father's eyes staring back in the mirror's frame