A Child’s Perspective

Daddy rages, Mommy cries,
What about me?
the little child sighs.

No home for my own
yet I have two.
Never alone
but always lonely.
Mourning for one
while with the other.
Never enjoying
without feeling guilt.

I have my spaces.
My objects surround me,
yet I can’t remember
where my teddy bear is.
Is it here or there?

I want two kisses goodnight
from two people –
not the bemused, exhausted
brush of one’s lips
on my brow.

No one asked me
when the choice was made.
I got the leftovers.

Small wonder I am scared,
so angry I want nothing more
than to strike out
at the ones I love most.
Hear me . . .
when can I speak?

yet I can’t remember
where my teddy bear is.
Is it here or there?

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