They were my kids,
the same age
as the children
I never bore.
They were mine,
for the same reasons
I never had
a child.
The damage
I could have done
was done
to them.
Several were the off-spring
of addicts,
losing respect for adults
at an early age.
Many did not know
a parent,
some, too protected,
needed to rebel.
A few were driven
to success,
most did not care.
Several struggled.
At thirty-two
I could have made one thus.
Fifteen years later
I understand.
