I was there when each of you were born,
Each day, among the  happiest of my life.
Now, I sit here alone,
And ask myself: “Children, where have you gone?”

Years ago, I learned the undeniable truth,
That torn our family apart.
I did not see, but I heard.
Now I am left to ask, “Children, where have you gone?”

I came to visit many times,
But each time no one greeted me.
The house was always empty,
And I was left to ask the question: “Children, where have you gone?”

Now I am old, and a sickness has taken my mind,
I don’t make new memories very well,
But the past, I remember all too well,
Which is why I ask, “Children, where have you gone?”

As I sit alone in this unfamiliar room,
I know it’s too late,
The sickness has taken my ability to communicate,
There’s no way to ask my question: “Children, where have you gone?”

All of these years I have asked it,
And only now, do I wish it had been aloud.
Perhaps, if I’d told you what I’d heard,
You would understand why I was left to ask: “Children, where have you gone?”

by Cody McCullough