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The snapshot of now
folds in the middle:
me on one side,
kids on the other.

The snapshot of then
split in the end --
me torn apart --
them with their mother.
Shin May 4
Oh, what I wouldn't give
to hear your whisper
offer even one more lie.
Sam Steele Apr 16
I hit a low with your good bye
At first I could not see
The ‘good’ within the goodbye
Was an upbeat prophesy

What was worse, what I’d reverse
Is what I came to know
The life of hell that I would live
After your first hello
kevin wright Apr 2
Abandoned, lies a gilded frame
Its forged glass guardian now shattered
The photo ripped out from its core
Family larceny unreported

Fraught vestiges of uproar
Child's reflections resonate in bath bubbles
The drive way desecrated
An aimless teddy and a wheelless toy car

A photo a souvenir of their time together
Entranced in a grounded life boat
An anchor now lies detached
Ghostly outlines prone on the sandy shore

The front door firmly ajar
Windows flap in the hostile wind
Chimneys spouting fungal spores
A back door overlooks an overgrown jungle

Disputes never resolved
Children like puppets on a tight rope
Collateral damage piled high
A broken family powerless in lifes high seas
Relationships are too fast, society passes family by. Everyone in this situation needs to read the signs and act in partnership before the picture frame becomes empty.
Love flowed from him
Love flowed from her
Live in relation developed
His house in love fire was engulfed
They brought up a child
With time she turned wild
He approached the Hon'ble Court
Grant me divorce my lord
Are you both married
The judge asked
No Sir, It's a live in relationship
So where's the hurry to get rid of her
Let the things cool down
Then bring another of your choice
She will leave your house
Sir, I have many choices
She doesn't allow any enter my house
She has gone so wild
Pulls my hair day and night
You can see I have turned bald
So what I too have gone bald
So many ticklish cases have piled
I work overtime
My wife remains annoyed
I am afraid, I too may face divorce trial
Anyway your case doesn't come
under the ambit of divorce law
The judge announced
Divorce can't be granted
You may go to police for grievance redressal
If atrocities are enormous
I did go to the police
They threatened to put me behind the bars
On a **** charge
You could go to Women's Commission
I did that too, Sir
Members came to my house
They blackened my face and changed my race
I am sorry, I can't help you
Go to politicians
Get a legislation on live in relation passed to make a law
Or you first marry your ''UNWIFE" to make her wife
Then you may bring fresh case for divorce
Your case is dismissed with costs to your UNWIFE
Besides a fine of Rs Fifty Thousand only for wasting this court's valuable time!
Serendipity Mar 24
I think divorce papers taste like the ash of a ciggratte falling from his lips when he told her the news.

Like whiskey burning firey hot as it slides down the back of your throat,

with bitter sweet tears pooling in with umami ink, the saltiness hitting the tongue like the papers to the floor, a weeping widow who does not suffer from a death but an absence.

I think divorce papers cut up throats like the edge of a chip, swallowing the news over and over again does not seem to make it go down any easier.

I think divorce papers digest like a cheap meal, the kind that you know will give you trouble, but also know is better for you in the end.
Mimi Bordeaux Mar 22
I found my mother thrashing a chair at my father as my eyes gazed upwards at the stairs. I found my mother thrashing a chair at my father as my eyes gazed upwards at the stairs.
Void Mar 7
The ground crumbles beneath my feet
Slowly chipping away at the foundation where I stand
There is nowhere left to go
I am stuck here on my own
You brought me to this place, void of life
Everyone, in the end is gone and I am left to fall all alone
Everyone that I loved
Every moment we shared is gone
a token
ring of
Decatur still
makes pie
out of
Roberta's hind
quarter with
Illinoisan slew
by her
delicate pastry
and makeshift  
banana this
creme du jour
is a
burden of
the issue
of clericalism
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