In the beginning he would wake at every peculiar sound that came from the babies crib 

In the beginning he would bring me a beverage as I fed his son whilst the moon was dimly lit 

In the beginning he would rush home from work eager to see the family he created 

In the beginning we were the people whom he could be himself and escape with 

In the beginning we were enough 

 

He would wake up for work, and try not to disturb us

He would never complain, because what he had was enough 

Kissing us gently, before he left each morning,

Doing his best, and never once moaning

 

But in the end, he wouldn't even come home to kiss us good night 

Left us alone and afraid, sick with worry at midnight 

In the end, the women and the fun became what he eagerly left work for

In the end, coming home to his family was nothing less than a chore

In the end, he missed 100s of bed time stories and precious irreplaceable moments

In the end, he was no longer there and had little involvement 

 

The long nights of sickness, when my son got ill  

The movie days with the duvet, with time left to kill 

The cuddles the kisses, and the awkward questions 

My sons inquisitive mind, and how he teaches me life lessons 

Well that's what he misses, since he walked out on us 

Now what sane man would do that .. & Walk away from pure love?