I Wish They'd Stop Their Fighting

April 24, 2008
By Jen Gunshore, Harding, PA

I'm 3 years old and somethings wrong,
Mommy and Daddy are not getting along,
And no matter how young I am,
I hate their fighting.

I'm 6 years old and we've stopped going to church,
Mommy says its all to much to handle.
But when they're not looking, every night,
I get down on my knees and pray to end the fights.
Because I'm a little older now,
And I still hate their fighting.

I'm 10 years old and it's my birthday today,
But my Daddy is gone, he ran away.
And Mommy went out drinkng,
But at least there's no more bickering.
Because I hate their fighting.

I'm 13 now, and I don't like school,
The kids there all make fun of me.
Because their Mommy's and Daddy's read in the paper,
That my Daddy's in jail.
And they think that I'm a bad little girl,
And that I'll rub off on whoever so much,
Is kind enough to sit with me at lunch.
And everyday at school,
There's more fighting.

I'm 16 now and my daddys out,
It's been two weeks and he dropped by the house.
There were men with him,
He said were his friends,
And he asked me if I could leave for a while,
He needed to speak with Mommy.
So I left, and I didn't know that,
Mommy and Daddy were fighting.

I came back from the library,
My nose so deep in a brand new book,
That when an abulance went by, I didn't even look.
And I didn't realize till I got to the house,
That the screaming sirens were for Mommy.

Daddy and Mommy were in a big fight,
Only this time, Daddy used his knife.
And he shed mommy's blood on the floor,
And now they can't fight anymore.

Every night when I said those prayers,
When I asked God to make them stop fighting.
I guess that they are answered now,
But I'll always miss my Mommy.

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