Quarreling Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Moms and Dads quarrel and fight
During the hours of day and night.
Flames burst into shouting matches…
Children hide and batten the hatches.

No one is winning the repeat bout.
No points for how loud they shout.
The fumes of the dispute are lingering…
The emotional scars are sadly clinging.

The conflict between parents is singeing.
Charred children are numb and cringing.
The searing irons are gradually cooling.
Anger and fear are learned by schooling.