Behind Closed Doors

I read about a family fighting
Over an apartment;
As far as messed-up families go,
They'd lead in that department.

It turns out that horrific things
Took place where they resided,
And now a day in court is due
For siblings so divided.

The part I found most strange
Was the apartment's posh address;
Behind the fancy doorman doors,
The family was a mess.

They lived across from Central Park,
And it would be audacious
To think that only joy exists
In co-ops rich and spacious.

For screwed-up families abound
In wealthy homes and poor;
You can't predict what you will find
Behind somebody's door.

You might pass an address and think,
They've really got it made;
But often when you learn the truth,
You wouldn't want to trade.