A broken home,
Mothers ******,
Schizophrenic father,
Forever arguing.
Alchoholic parents,
Supposive "carers",
We may seem happy,
But I promise you, we are not.
Suicidal daughter,
Her body she slaughters,
With blades and bleeds onto her mattress.
Youngest sister,
Always missing,
She's always so angry,
This is not a family.
We go on,
Day to day,
Arguing away,
Portraying ourselves happy,
But dying inside sadly.
What happens behind closed doors,
Will never be revealed,
The floor gets wripped up,
And the ceiling caves in.
Suicidal daughter,
Cuts herself again,
Before getting the rope,
And standing on the chair,
She writes some notes,
Then burns them,
Never to see her "family again".
She takes a leap of faith,
Into hope and grace,
Of a new life,
And a new happy family.
This is one of the most personal poems I have ever brought myself to write.