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Nov 2013
She clutches a toothless baby,
posing stiffly before a tacky blue backdrop,
standing faithfully
beside my indifferent father—
a dormant madness
written subtly into
the lines of his face,
smothered
by suburban stoicism.

But her impeccably tailored grin,
which beams predictably
from the outstretched lips
of every frustrated housewife,
screams the words
forever condemned to silence:
“******* it, Andy,
for the good of our family,
couldn’t you at least pretend
to be happy about something?”

But what she didn’t realize
is that for far too long,
he did.
Alyssa Rose Evans
Written by
Alyssa Rose Evans  Dayton, OH
(Dayton, OH)   
716
   Em Draper and Md HUDA
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