I wrote you a book of what's in store.

on how I have always had open my front door.

For you to walk in and stay with me.

So we all could be one big, happy family.

But you walked out and left us alone.

For hours I would be waiting for your call by the phone.

Sitting all day and sitting all night.

Over custody battles you would attempt to fight.

You were always gone, wandering somewhere.

I felt forgotten, like you didn't care.

You would come and visit now and then.

Not like a mother , more of a distant friend.

People always talking down about you.

I couldn't listen, it can't be true !

Telling me these stories I could not believe.

You chose that over us.

You chose that over me. 

So I finished my book of what's in store.

it started to get cold, so I shut my front door.