After talking with a friend, I felt compelled to write and include this poem on my pages. I am an advocate of criminal prosecution of "" parents. They cause so much pain to their children in so many ways. I can say these things with all sincerity, because, I know first hand the pain that those children endure. If you know another custodial parent that has problems collecting his or her child support, I would urge you to contact your Governor, Congressman, Representative, and Attorney General's Office in your state, to lend support for laws that already exist and provide for criminal prosecution under the child support guidelines in many states. These laws need to be enforced and "" parents need to be made to support their children or lose their freedom. If they won't pay, the rest of us will.
Today, is just another day, without you in her
life,
She's happy now, but not for you, you left her in such strife.
She struggled much, the day you left, and left
her far behind,
But she's survived the torment, you put there, in her mind.
She was too young to understand, those things
you put her through,
She still has all those questions, though, one day, she'll ask of
you.
You gave her nothing, in return, for the love
she gave to you,
And you've destroyed, that love she had, with the trials, you put
her through.
She didn't ask that much, of you, she only
asked for love,
The love that only you could give, and none could rise above.
The mother's love she cherished, just wasn't
her's to hold,
You took away that love she had, and left her in the cold.
For that she owes you nothing, and nothing,
you'll receive,
She left your memory, far behind, and that, you can believe.
You couldn't even give her, a portion of your
pay,
You felt it was, too much to ask, the day you walked away.
You haven't thought, about her, for years, now
it seems,
So why'd you have to hurt her, and shatter all her dreams?
If there is love inside you, and this child,
your heart could touch,
Where were you, in her darkest days, and needed a mom, so much?
One would think, in eight long years, you'd
have sent at least, a card,
Maybe on a birthday, or when those times were hard.
After all the time, that's passed , you still
hurt her every day,
You missed her years of childhood, and you didn't hear her pray.
You missed all of her milestones, and special
things in life,
And all because, you could not be, a mother and a wife.
M. S. Madden
© April 27, 1998
Maddog Creations
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Updated or Modified: 03/28/08 | © 1998 -2008 Maddog Creations |
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