This poem was submitted to me for our e-zine The Truth Is Out There: The Truth About Child Protective Services.
The Poem is Not My Own.

DFC*

You sit there for hours
With nothing to do,
While they use their powers
To work against you.

They pick you apart
And tell all their lies.
They tear out your heart,
Ignoring your cries.

They think they're so cool.
They think they're so nice.
They're just like a mule,
And inside they're like ice.

You're never innocent,
No matter what you say.
They're like a mad elephant.
They'll stomp you anyway.

You'll never be free
From their owl eyes.
The DFC
Can mess up your lives.

Beware, Beware
Of their evil claws.
They really don't care
About any laws.

I really hope
You never will see,
And never have to cope
With how cruel they can be.

So stay in your houses,
And stay in your farms.
They'll rip your kids
Right out of your arms.

They'll put them in homes
You'll never see.
They'll leave them alone--
Just ask me.

Enough's been submitted
About this organization.
If they're permitted,
They'd tear up our nation.

By Esther Phillips, age 15

*DFC stands for Division of Family and Children

Esther's mother Juila sent me this poem written by her daughter. She is now in foster care and miserable.

Karissa Ann