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Five Jugs on the receiving end
of silent tears flowing through the eyes
of pressure from wonderful homes
shining the light so bright
from filaments on the brink of burning out.

In the court of perfection, this home is its clerk
but beneath its underwear is a smell of lack
loans have made its belt completely slack
squeezing out tears into a jug so black.

Another is so blessed, emitting wealthy rays
but in it, unity and love weep and pray
everyone makes hay too much to go astray
white on the outside but in the inside, grey.

Yet another home of good reputation but having only toilets
a worthy combination but with each member a suspect
conflicting issues, their interests secretly flirt
expertly pausing the time bomb set on their bracelets.

A family of helpers, leaning on a thread
comfort is strained by the need for more bread
a smiling extended family, yet each heart dreads
bringing out not just tears but ones in red.

Parents of the year, showcased on people’s screens
wonderful kids with beautiful names as Irene
but turmoil from these teenagers never ever seen
makes any grass grown there never green.

The light from successful families
comes from wires of grit and endurance.
Love and happiness also grow in the vase of issues
and perfection only a mere make-up
which shadows challenges for the world to see a bright home.

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