No Escape

When he wants to say No,
To deny you permission
To do what you really want to do,
He just says, “I won’t advise it.”
When you ask him why, he glares.
“I don’t have to explain myself.
You can do what you want.”
But if you really do what you want,
He acts like you’ve taken his tea,
Snatched it from his trembling hands
And splashed it on his trembling face.
You tire of asking why, why, why.
He never answers. Only glares.
Only grumbles. Only trembles.
That’s how he keeps you shackled up
Inside a cellar, four-by-four,
Of his narrow-minded grumpiness.