People screaming.
Doors breaking.
Dishes shattering to pieces.
Tears rolling down their cheeks,
almost forming a river.
The paranoid voice of the mother
loud enough to be heard through walls
with even the thick coat of paint on them.
The built figure of the aggressive father
walking up and down the hallway.
Children, all the way down,
warned to stay away.
Never having learnt to solve misinterpretations,
they continued arguing.
Never hesitating to think about the children,
they continued fighting.
On and on.
What the innocent eyes and ears of the children witnessed
was merely misery and hopelessness.
Hatred and a lost future.
They grew tired.
They lay back thinking,
reminiscing back to the days when they had a family.
A family intertwined with love and trust.
Hope always present within the walls of their home.
'Didn't we use to live a perfect life'
they kept questioning themselves.
But,
all they knew now
and forever maybe,
was that 'perfect' ,
was nothing close to what their lives now looked like.
With that, they eased themselves to sleep,
to leave the world for the few hours sleep offered them.
At least, they thought,
we could 'dream' of having a perfect life,
can't we?
——————————————————————————
JE LEEST
Pensieve
Puisi'Pensieve' : A place to store your thoughts, when the World gives you too many reasons to think about. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Poetry with a touch of pain, although at times, joy & love at its most!
