A poem about the trauma of divorce.
© Heather A. Richardson
Waiting alone in a quiet room
Bad things are what I start to assume
I wait longer and longer for the word to come
As my body starts to feel nervous and numb
The door opens and my mom comes in
I can already feel her pain from within
As she tells me he will not be here
My eyes fill up with painful tears
People always tell me that I will be fine
But divorce is hard when it's your third time
Now I don't want to see him ever again
I guess I was wrong when I thought he was a friend
He lied to me hurt me just like he did to my mother
I feel like by him I am constantly being smothered
And I hope one day he feels guilty for what he did
To a 12-year-old girl which he called his kid.
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