A Summer in Shackles

I awoke at dawn to calamity.
Known and unknown voices tell me to rise.
I stumble into the living room dizzily;
I can't believe my sleep encrusted eyes.

Binding his hands are iron clad restraints.
On his face shame; mixed with something I can't name.
I've lied to myself too long--you are no saint.
From now on my life will never be the same.

I draw what I've seen on a paper pad
and then hand it back to the police officer.
The drugs. The pills. The stealing. THE LIES. Why dad?
How could you? How could you do this to your daughter?

¨I'm sorry.¨ You say. I don't know for which part.
Sad thing is; I've known of what you do from the start.