The Lonely Parent

tired overworked and emotionally alone, she comes home, soon she is medicated and out for the night, anything to escape the dreariness and relentless pursuit of life, she has a baby sitter, routine, TV remote TV remote TV remote supper bed and More TV, it’s all routine, children lie awake among this routine, no stories to stir their hearts and move their minds, they lie there wondering often in fear, what condition will she arrive back in, who will be with her when she comes in the door. hours fly by her spirits high, she stumbles across tables smashing glass misses her eyes, she falls into the arms of a new lover,  can’t walk without assistance, he helps her into the taxi, pats her as she flops by his side, she’s at his home or crib, crib sounds snazy doesn’t it, well it can also be hell, get it, he undress’s and relieves his pornographic mind, twisted and tormented by so many of those images we all pretend to ignore, like those shops for adults that children keep on passing by, she lies there comatose her snoring is hard to ignore, would wake a train from sleep the depth of its gassy high, she’s home again by 8, in time to wake them all up, she argues with herself as the taxi drives awhile, her mind searing glad to be alive, she can’t remember his name did she ask him,  she’s not sure she just lets it all roll by, she is home now, drops the children to school, see you in the evening she mumbles as she says good bye…they troop into school, a new day, tired and looking forward at the same time, wondering what it’s like for all the other children, and the tears they keep hidden inside…well God Most High hears every call, and…well it’s been said for years,  who am i to advise, i’m not that lonely parent, or the pressure so many are under..not me not me not me not me…

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