I slip through the crowds,
ignoring the endless chatter.
A repeat of everyday,
school.
They say school is meant to be like a second home.
Oh, how I wish it was.
Then, at least,
I would have a home,
a true home that wasn't in ruins.
I slipped in the class and head to the back.
I smiled,
happy for once that kindness makes me easy to be forgotten.
Oh, to be forgotten,
how sweet it is to be forgotten.
You don't take sides,
you are simply forgotten.
YOU ARE READING
Tainted Hearts
PoetryThere's more than one way to tell a story. A story told through poetry showing the true impact change has. Following a girl's journey through her parent's divorce.