From the outside we look happy,
Like a perfect family.
There looks to be nothing alarming,
Like we live in perfect harmony.
I know this to be a common perception,
But really this is a big misconception.
We are not strong and happy, a fairytale.
Instead we are falling apart, we’re frail.
We are not yet broken, but still breaking.
Along with my head, my hearts aching.
I’m in so much pain but I have no release.
These poems are my way of falling to my knees.
I beg the Lord to fix my breaking home,
To rebuild it, this time, of stone.
So no big bad wolves can knock us down,
And we can live in peace, safe and sound.