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A Year Ago You Were Here

Dear Conscience, Such dispassion grows with age; Less of love, more of rage. Even dinner has been terribly awkward for a while, You can’t get to the plates without Mother’s tired smile. Of course, Father’s promise to be a lot more loving (He doesn’t realize their love has turned to nothing) But it’s okay, my sisters don’t seem to care We’re just on the sidelines ridiculing how they don’t play fair. It’s funny to hear others think of Marriage so sweet, When it simply brings together the words “Child” and “Beat” I used to think their love derived from force, Because now it sure screams the word: D I V O R C E. Why do adults think that teenagers don’t know enough? We don’t just plaster ourselves as the definition of messed-up. Wouldn’t you think that if parents knew any better, Mommy and Daddy would still be together?

A Year Ago You Were Here

Dear Conscience, Such dispassion grows with age; Less of love, more of rage. Even dinner has been terribly awkward for a while, You can’t...