Bait

It's fun to be late,
To go against the grain.
To run out in the rain,
But not to be a piece of bait.

That is nibbled on every day or so,
Yet you are attached to a hook.
Suffering with nothing to do but look,
At the person that won't let you go.

Each day you aren't you,
You're always so sad,
Never at all glad.
Now that your life is theirs too.

You're too afriad to change,
Because the person that does not care,
Might not be there.
And your love might disarrange.

You still love them so,
After all they did,
Even giving you a kid.
You're too afriad to let them let you go.