Lost Opportunities for children in the September 11th Epic Poem

For how can Dad be very mad   
            Who once did lots of pot?
Can it be fair to make them bear
            A load that he could not?
For we, in spite, turned out all right,
            When love began to grow;
So these ones, too, might make it through,
            If we just let them go.
 
But still we bleed to watch them feed
            With lack of self-control,
The same deceit that help defeat
            The light inside our soul.
Why must they waste with careless haste
            Their lives as if they’re dirt,
When they could use their gift of youth
            To help and not to hurt?
 
(-excerpt from chapter 12)
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