I remember him everyday,
How he was before things changed.
The way he will always be to me.
The many things we’ve said and seen.
I remember that hot bright day.
My thighs itchy as I sat in the car.
I remember the brutally trimmed hedges and
The vast white dome.
I remember him taking my hand.
The cold white metal slowly slipped
On my finger.
The look of love and forever he had in
Like we would never fall apart.
One day was all it took, for the walls to tumble
And the joy to break.
One day became consistent and consistent became
I could never be right, I was just a rope to hang on to,
Before reality came to the rescue.
I remember his dissatisfied grunts. The far away attention
And half-hearted attempts. . .
Night after night I prayed for a change. I wished for a bridge
To cross the ever growing beyond.
Nothing happened, he went out of reach. A broken mother
With clueless children.
I survived, though my sadness never left. It gradually became
A silent companion.
So when I sit down to remember and smile, I hope against hope
That he’ll come back to me.
Even though the truth is broke and
Will never be the same. . .
Theodora, 16, is a young poet, she writes from Middlesbrough, UK. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
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