What could I do, what could I say.
To make you want to be here, To make you want to stay.
You never gave me A chance, You never even tried.
You expected everything even after you lied.
I didn't think I could love you, and not even care.
You're sleeping in your car, I didn't know where.
You come back repentant after the rant and the rave,
It wasn't me you wanted to be close to, It was the Meth that you crave.
The babies you left, without a second thought,
using them as pons, in this retched game you sought.
You enter back in as they hang on tight, You take the diaper money,
As again you take flight, No kisses for them as you leave them goodnight.
I hate you for what you have made me feel,
Raising your family as you get your thrill.
The urges you never even try to suppress,
And everything you should be doing you leave to the rest.
The day you went to trade the child for the game,
Made me step in and I know you're insane.
When will it end, When will the Meth be gone.
One of us isn't comming out alive, and if you think its me your wrong!
~P.Kate Hancock~
