Dear Father, Dear Mother,

Father, I feel this one's for you. I am so concearned and confused with what you do. Anger, frustration, I feel your pain. I wonder if you will ever gain, respect for yourself and those that surround, your life and your home and where you belong. My mother is also heavy on my mind. I am worried and troubled with her great bind. Twisting and pulling, how much can she take? Does she ever wonder if she's made a mistake? Sorrow and love seem to combine, when I think of these two people in my life. How different they are yet perfectly matched. Their love is what created this fine batch. A bundle of joy, for them to embrace, a resembelance to, each others face. A lasting memory that will never fade. The time and the place that I was made.