PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I remember, when I was a child of eleven,

all the times I followed them around.

Like their shadow, I willing to learn,

they moulded who I am today.



My brothers of three, all older then me,

all the time, I edged on their nerves.

But like their shadow, there I was.

Willing and eager to learn.



I remember when I was a child of twelve,

how my parents constantly fought.

I'd always try to come between them,

never taking sides for who's wrong or right.



Our friends, they used to gather here,

in my home of 20 years.

As I look back, I know I can laugh,

because of the adventures started here.



But not so soon, came a vacant room.

I, the age of sixteen.

Another followed, another room hallowed.

All of a sudden, I was eighteen.



Seven years later, I sit in this room.

Wondering, why don't they call?

My son runs around, at the age of three.

And my mother? She left us all.



All that transpired, stays in my mind.

I wonder why the divide?

A fa mi ly torn, because of their words.

And I'm left here, taking sides.



I can remember when I was a child,

before the divorce and the pain.

With all of thoes memories, I ask myself how?

How could we ever be a family again?