The bad one

I'm the kid that parents wish they never had.
With the soft face and the bright eyes.
The little girl that is so secretly bad.
It's horrible to know that I am their worst surprise.
I really do hate to see them so sad.
But I hate them thinking that they are so wise.

Telling me what I can and can't do its part of the game.
But did I get a choice on if I wanted to play?
Trying to keep me conformed, keep me the same.
But what if I want to be different, am I allowed to stray?
Maybe I have a free spirit, unable to be tame.

And what about the boy, the one living with us.
I wonder which of us is more of a wreak .
But then again he's good, he wasn’t a bust.
I guess his mind just isn't as weak.
Disappointment in him was never a must.
Oh well, I'm just the bad one no need left to speak