In a Bind

In every criminal there is a child - With the face of your son, The hands of your brother. A mother held him once, she lulled him to sleep. When he cried she soothed him. The weary heart that longs to forgive- The marriage of family, it never desists. I live in a sad state, The anger retreats, but that is just me. I can simple forgive but I cannot forget. To do so would be foolish and fools are just that.