He comes to spend time with his kids.
You know there will be damage control
To be dealt with later, but still you let
You sit and wonder just how much
Deprogramming you'll be looking at;
Another child cries himself to sleep;
The accusatory looks a daughter gives
As she blames you for everything wrong
In her life; and you're left holding the broken
Pieces, trying to keep them from
Shattering further, their sharp edges
Cutting deeply into the hands reached out
To help not hinder.
Why? Why do I say nothing and let his
Poison eat at me?
There are no answers only more questions.