I've nicked this title from a line in one of shadowplay's poems, i don't know if it's on here, but check it out, it's great. As for this piece...it's a rant i guess.
I use Capitals at the beginning of pronouns instead of names. [One is not the same person as First.]
Where did justice go? Same place as morality, privacy and the truth I expect - swallowed up by the media - but that doesn't apply to death, does it?
I've only been touched by such sadness once in my life, but nowhere near as deep as this.
Two girls are born to a couple, about eighteen months between them. He decides He can't take it. He divorces Her, and runs off with someone else, leaving her with no money and two young children. The Two try to contact Him when they are older, He doesn't want to know.
The family of three get along fine, they settle down, She finds a new man (the Two aren't happy with it, but there's nothing they can do, it's Her choice).
A couple of years down the line, just after the First's birthday, and She is in her mid-forties.
She is found dead in her bed. Had a heart attack in the early hours.
The Two are left, He is long gone, and they by no means get on with New Man. They stay with family friends. The school friends are told - "What should we say? How should we act? What if They crack? What if we cry?" - One doesn't know what to do.
One goes and prays. And in her prayers she dreams. And in her dreams she sees the Two, birds fighting agains the wire. There's danger in their haven: a fire in the aviary.
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