Ode to a Deadbeat

To all the deadbeat dads that left a hurricane of innocent confusion and empty promises,
I have, for you, only one question; 
How?
How could you leave that child that always seems to beam with a smile made from pieces of you?
How could you let yourself be the reason for the ache in the heart of the child that you claim you love so much?
A child that you once held so softly, for you feared they might break
A child that you now toss to the side because they mean less to you than a fun party or a nice buzz
How did you let yourself become so careless of the needs of the ones that you once rocked to sleep with lullabies on your tongue and love in your heart?
How?
And to all the deadbeat moms that left pain and heartache in their wake,
How could you leave the child that once grew from your love and lived by your platelets? 
How could  you leave after feeling the painful kick of your obvious future soccer player against your rib cage?
How could you leave after hearing the flutter of your child’s heartbeat like a butterfly trying to make its graceful escape?
How could you see your child blossom after such an extreme amount of pain that you endured to get them there in the first place and just leave?
How could you look at their smile, the one you created with perfect precision in your womb, and know that you ripped that smile off their little face like a robber rips a purse off an arm?
How could you live with yourself?
How?
Finally to all the deadbeat parents out there that left beautiful children scarred by your narcissism,
I have, for you, only one thing left to say;
Fuck you!