They Steal Our Lives
Ignorance, everyday, seems more prominent,
While impending doom lurks more definite.
But suppose, just once, they took a walk,
Instead of marking life with chalk,
They could stand back and reminisce
Realizing that I walk away not missed.
Parents, family, 'know what is best'
Only to a certain extent,
For they only know one side of you
The other half has no cue.
Yet, hypocrites they will remain,
For they do not accept a demain.
It sickens me, and so I waste.
My creativity chokes on taste
Of this putrid dish of greed.
They want to live a life not seed
In decrepit and shame and 'end'
So they take mine and send
One lost in worth in place of it.
My life looks back and pleas for help,
But what can I do? I'm but a welp,
Raised from the ashes of 'Once ago
They had their life stolen as well.'
A/N: Born from my latest rant on deviant art, I'm unbelievably furious at my parents. I won't go into length and detail here, but as a clue the word life is not the definition opposite of death. A Demain in french means see you tomorrow. I was too lazy to add the accentaegou.
The provided text is a poem that expresses frustration and anger towards the author's parents and the perceived loss of personal freedom and identity. It does not contain any mathematical questions or answers.
no_question
Given a text passage, determine:
    1. If it contains a mathematical question (including word problems or calculations)
    2. If an answer to that mathematical question is provided in the text

First, describe the content structure you found in 1-2 sentences.

Then provide your analysis in the following format:
TYPE: <one of the following values>
- NO_QUESTION
- SINGLE_QUESTION
- SINGLE_QUESTION_WITH_ANSWER
- MULTIPLE_QUESTIONS
- MULTIPLE_QUESTIONS_WITH_ANSWERS
system
They Steal Our Lives
Ignorance, everyday, seems more prominent,
While impending doom lurks more definite.
But suppose, just once, they took a walk,
Instead of marking life with chalk,
They could stand back and reminisce
Realizing that I walk away not missed.
Parents, family, 'know what is best'
Only to a certain extent,
For they only know one side of you
The other half has no cue.
Yet, hypocrites they will remain,
For they do not accept a demain.
It sickens me, and so I waste.
My creativity chokes on taste
Of this putrid dish of greed.
They want to live a life not seed
In decrepit and shame and 'end'
So they take mine and send
One lost in worth in place of it.
My life looks back and pleas for help,
But what can I do? I'm but a welp,
Raised from the ashes of 'Once ago
They had their life stolen as well.'
A/N: Born from my latest rant on deviant art, I'm unbelievably furious at my parents. I won't go into length and detail here, but as a clue the word life is not the definition opposite of death. A Demain in french means see you tomorrow. I was too lazy to add the accentaegou.
user
The provided text is a poem that expresses frustration and anger towards the author's parents and the perceived loss of personal freedom and identity. It does not contain any mathematical questions or answers.

TYPE: NO_QUESTION