Divorce Struck Child Tells All

November 7, 2011
By Honewisacat SILVER, Clarence, New York
Honewisacat SILVER, Clarence, New York
8 articles 0 photos 8 comments

Favorite Quote:
“Here's what's not beautiful about it: from here, you can't see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you can tell what the place really is. You can see how fake it all is. It's not even hard enough to be made out of plastic. It's a paper town. I mean, look at it, Q: look at all those culs-de-sac, those streets that turn in on themselves, all the houses that were built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters.”
― John Green, Paper Towns


Wandering aimlessly,
Weather it be in life or dreams,
Passing through life carelessly.
You meet someone who takes it away,
The blank stares become deep thoughts.
He leaves you for a moment, just for a day,
A day becomes a year,
Then more time passes by.
The infant in your arms, the one you’re left with
Seems to always cry.
Joint custody is the new decision,
One week here, one week there.
The child is growing, she chooses her mission,
A marriage that lasts 50 plus years,
Time is the ultimate test so they say.
You marry again, but the memory seers,
Burning you, burning into your mind.
You run, but the child follows, she’s become a young woman,
The object or your pain has become your design,
And you think about how it’s with out all the time.
Be warned now, we don’t know the ending
With all the decisions, both yours and the childs,
The results are still pending.
So sleep now and let us forget,
Or at least let them fade away,
All the things we’ve grown to regret.


The author's comments:
My parents divorced in 2005, when i was in 5th grade, and I wanted to represt that in this poem. In english we're also reading Scarlet letter so that also inspired me. Some parts are from the eyes of my mom, and my half sisters. She's four years older than me, but it still kills her too. I hope people will get hope, and they'll be able to connect with this. It Gets Better.

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