A battle, than a war

Mom, dad,
I am not your messanger.
For five years I have had to run back and forth,
trying to translate harsh messages into kinder words.
I'm not your punching bag,
where you can punch your hatred for each other through me.
Your curses reach my ears,
and the slamming makes my heart beat faster.
Now I am grown, yet all I am to you is a cord,
the only link between you two.
I have tried to be patient and understanding, but your cruel vengefule words cut through me,
and it fuels me so!
You don't listen even though you agree with me.
You tell me to grow up and stop fighting with my brother.
You tell me to forgive,
yet you don't do the same.
You both signed papers to part from each other,
to stop the hateful conversations.
But now you start up a war, a pointless battle.
And though I know you love me,
I sometimes feel I will always be in your wars.





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