My kids were crying in their room, while I thought they were fine,
Going through stuff, that didn't cross my mind.
Started wearing wristbands to hide the bruise,
From the razorblades that they had used.
Showering in the bathroom, they shut the door,
But truth be told, they're crying on the bathroom floor.
Water pours from the shower, masking all the tears,
Can't speak to the parents, it's not like they had cared.
A feeling of Lypophrenia, google what it means,
Drives them to depression, especially in teens.
If I was a parent, just for a day,
I'd attack their mental health, before their life decayed.
I know it hurts you, constantly arguing with my love,
But that doesn't mean we don't love you and the man above.
For all you parents, reading out there,
Check in with your kids, show them you care.
A lot can be said with a sincere hug,
It could save them from a grave, you didn't know they dug.
Pills upon pills, hoping they overdosed,
They've past the edge, now one with the coast.
They know you love them, but it's not shown,
Confirming that strangers are better than their own.
Writing this poem, makes me want to cry,
Knowing I can relate to why they want to die.
This is my therapy, hope you find your own,
They might live in that house, but it might not be their home...
~Treamar Ivey~
YOU ARE READING
Poeticcharmer
PoesíaDare to be Charmed? Embark on a journey like no other; through a complete autobiography of the life of the Poeticcharmer. With every page, his life is reflected as he reminds you -To Expect The Unexpected. 🏅Best Poetical Title - The Elysian Awards ...
