18 Sirrine Drive was where my family lived,
when I was small, my brother tall, and my sister just a baby.
Then we were a family,
led by my Dad, the king was he.
My mom the Queen, stood by his side.
We followed Dad, he was our guide.
To someone on the outside, casually peering in,
appeared to be a happy family.
But things aren’t always as they seem, when outside looking in.
Those big wide smiles can’t always hide the pain that’s churning deep inside.
Many years had passed, the pain had spread, and my dad, the King left us for dead.
I turned to drugs, my brother we’d, my sister fled to Utah.
My mom, still Queen, was left alone to raise my son, as her own.
We all had gone away.
I love my son more than words can say, I want nothing more than to be home with him every day, but the drugs I turned to to ease my pain, kept me away from him, afraid to cause him more pain.
As it turns out, Mom hurt worst of all.
But her pain she kept buried, she did not write or call.
Several years later, she felt slightly ill, she went to the hospital to see about taking a pill.
What the doctor told her that day, was the worst possible news. He said she was dying, and there was nothing they could do.
You’d think upon hearing news such as this, my family would come together to give her one final kiss. This is no fairy tale, the ending is sad.My Mom, the Queen died, without a word from my Dad.
We had not been a real family since 18 Sirrine Drive, not even on the day that my sweet mom had died.
I have written and called the King on the hill, he’s replaced us, his family, with some other people. I learned from all this, though I may love it, not everyone can feel this emotion from above.
Don’t dwell on what isn’t, and cherish what is. It’s the children who matter, not the number if bills..
It makes me quite sad, as I look all around,
Family seems forgotten as the kids all run round, looking for something that will never be found.
Stores at the mall, and mail catalogs, do not sell the family that comes from above.