To My Children Poem by Robert Melliard

I used to stare at you at times:
soon aware, you'd ask me why.

I's say: 'I'm trying to see
what's from your mother's side
and what's from mine.'

But later on, I'd look at your young faces
while you slept, and think:
'Did we create these miracles?
How new, unique and beautiful! '

Whatever harsh depression made me do
in later years - drink and rant,
or threaten to leave home -
remember that I always loved you.

Some feelings run to deep to show.