Visitation Day at the prison, my anxiety is not hid,

She’s locked up because she sold  drugs to other kids.

Why do I feel like I’m being punished?

“You can’t wear this; you can’t wear that.

Don’t even think about wearing a hat.”

Because of all those rules. I began the visit with the blues.

Trying to hide the way I feel, She was quick to realize,

My smile was not for real, the truth I could not disguise.

Hugged and kissed her, said how much we missed her.

Looked forward to the day they finally dismissed her.

It weighed heavily on my mind; I hated leaving her behind.

Upon her release, she let go of her past,

Made the leap to adulthood, living right at last.

No longer running wild, she got married and had a child.

Prayed things would be better than they were before.

Tragedy overtook her, now my daughter is no more.

After she drew her last breath, her husband joined her in death.

Visitation day at her gravesite, no longer do rules apply.

I am left with this question; why did my child have to die?