Scream, sob, fuss, cry,
Theron hit me in the eye. 
Kelsey got a bloody nose, 
Billy tied me with the hose. 
Carissa’s slapping, Maxx is flapping, 
Mother wishes they were napping. 

Whine, wail, boss, yell,
I hate this day, I hate this smell.
I'm so hungry, I want to eat
Not that old stuff, I want a treat.
Not that bowl, I wanted green.
Maybe red is what I mean. 

Scratch, claw, bite, pinch,
Kelsey never gives an inch.
She wants that toy and Billy's book.
She slapped and grabbed and then she took.
She didn't care how Billy felt.
She hit him hard and left a welt. 

Push, shove, kick, slap,
No more do they take a nap. 
I'm not tired, I will not sleep.
Its all YOUR fault, YOU make me weep.
You should let me have my way,
Its not fair I have to obey.

Giggle, tease, laugh, frown.
Theron thinks he is a clown.
A wicked giggle, a gasping scream.
Those goofy boys make quite a team.
Ice cold root beer down Kelsey's shirt,
Now she's ready to throw some dirt. 

Sigh, cry, moan, pray,
Those are mother sounds today.
FASD kids are very busy
They can make their parents dizzy.
Solving fights, enforcing rules,
It seems like training stubborn mules.

Teach, train, clean, hope,
Maybe the kids will learn to use soap.
Maybe they'll learn to stop the lying,
Even the rages and endless crying. 
Maybe they'll learn to sing and pray,
And live on their own some future day.

by Carol in WA, September 20, 2002
Grieving the Loss of the Dream