A Commonplace Tragedy

A Commonplace Tragedy

Just because I come from a broken home

            Doesn’t mean I hate my parents,

            Doesn’t mean I cry myself to sleep,

            Doesn’t mean I listen to screamo.

Just because I come from a broken home

            Doesn’t mean I despise my mother’s god,

            Doesn’t mean I am constantly angry,

            Doesn’t mean I always have mood-swings.

Just because I come from a broken home

            Doesn’t mean I’m envious of my friends with sheltered homes,

            Doesn’t mean that every cup I look at is empty,

            Doesn’t mean I’m constantly depressed.

Just because I come from a broken home

            Doesn’t mean I look for ways to hide my anger,

            Doesn’t mean I resort to self-mutilation,

            Doesn’t mean I need your pity.

Just because I come from a broken home

            Doesn’t mean I need your understanding,

            Doesn’t mean I need someone to look up to,

            It means that someone else is suffering because you’re turning to the wrong broken soul.

Just because I come from a broken home

            Does that mean I can hide my true emotions well?

            Does that mean I can successfully put up impenetrable walls?

            Does that mean I’ve fooled you?

I do, in fact, come from a broken home.

I make no excuses.

            --Many of Our Neighbors