Braces for His Kids
I signed the line with a shaking hand,
One more check to meet demand.
The lawyer smiled, a practiced grace—
I visualized my kid’s crooked smile in place.
The gavel dropped, the papers signed,
A chapter closed, a life repealed.
The cost? Not just the fee they charge,
But dreams postponed, and wounds still large.
My teenager—fouteen, brave and kind—
Hides his teeth, tries not to mind.
“Maybe next year…or never” I softly say,
But even next year feels so far away.
The lawyer’s office: marble halls,
Family portraits on the walls.
Two children grin with perfect teeth,
Their braces gone, relief beneath.
And I—I paid for every wire,
Each monthly visit they require.
While mine just shrugs and bites his tongue,
In silence where his hope once clung.
Total price $19,565.
It could have cost us $375.
And with the same legal outcome.
And even a future sweet ride for our son.
He was the true loser in this sad battle.
I want to rage, to howl, to curse
This bitter trade, this skewed reverse.
But I just nod, and drive on home,
Past every ad for perfect bone.
Still, love remains—though funds are few—
And in his eyes, I see what’s true:
No bracketed smile could better shine
Then knowing, through the storm, he’s mine.
© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
