There were never stories at bed time,

with a hug and a kiss,

there was no connection,

they were merely the kids;

a duty,

obligation,

quite simply a chore,

needed to cover the truth

behind closed doors;

a marriage of convenience,

with no love in the mix,

the ones that suffered the most,

were those

three

kids;

they paid with their hearts,

they paid with their souls,

that slowly froze inside them,

from a mother so cold.