Divorce

I'm caught abreast

With sorrow, seeping

from my chest

And no cop nor couch

Nor alimony check

Can keep deceiving

Me from what was ruined

A picture perfect family

Fluke

Just faded crayons crying

Into papers, white

And spite

Is marching through me

As they sign away what rights

(What rights?)

I might have known

Before I was an object passed

From day to day

And week to week

To carry on your shoulder

Like an ornament.

It's, what is meant

When one says to the other

I'm no longer to be bothered

So take them, take them

This one's yours on weekdays

And I'll say, 

Where's my say?

Reviews

[D-Wizzel]

Not sure what to say other than it's perfectly written. Seems inappropriate to have a happy tone, and say like great job or something because something so personal isn't like other works, is it? It doesn't exist for praise or for other people, but more for the writer. So, yeah. Perfectly written.