A Teenage Strife

My mother and I don’t get along,
We share no common song.

She doesn't understand,
I no longer want to hold her hand.

She doesn't know me well,
This it's not hard to tell.

I stare at her disheartened,
Asking myself how we got this partnered.

Why I no longer hug my mother,
And would rather tuck myself under the covers.

Everything she does is bothersome to me,
Why can't she just leave me be?

The end I hope is near,
for this altercation is far from dear.

The explanation, my guess, is a teen girl, trying to grow up in a not so civil world.

I want to love my mom, I need to share a common song.