Divorce

The deadly plague it blows its breath,
And snatches children from their nests,
And helpless lovers beg and cry,
As weary mothers breathe their sighs,
The callous reapers who design,
To strip sweet childhood out of time,
And grab their lovers, dancing slow,
And tell their children, I must go,
"But shed no tears for none is lost,"
Their lying tongues don't count the cost,
But those that linger, left behind,
Know well the pain lost love can twine.

Gold and silver cannot fill,
That gnawing emptiness until
You beat your breast in rage and grief,
Your love was stolen by a thief.

Now childhood laughter's song is hollow,
As broken dreams and promises follow,
And quiet rage replaces hope,
The deadly reaper's interlope.



Tori Larson