The Clock strikes nine;
Breakfast time for The Family –
They join at the table,
Talking, laughing, feeling divine.

Once finished outside they go,
to share their happiness with the world,
ever smiling,
without care nor woe.

The Clock strikes noon,
The Family joins at the table and
smile lopsided, empty,
Hesitant chuckling and a love lost too soon.

The rest of the day
Is spent together
walking a few more paces
away from eachother.

The Clock strikes six,
for dinner, to the table they arrive-
No voices, no giggling, no smiles,
all with the knowledge their family can’t be fixed

Now parents retreat to separate beds,
and children flee upstairs,
ever present is the feeling:
The Family is Dead