The Child Poem by Sarah Sisson

In my eyes... in the mirror... I
see the still girl that was once me

...and I never loved her.
I hated her for so long... but now,

I look upon that child as she
really was. No different from any

that had to suffer a bit. No mother
to raise her. Just a lonely house that

was not fit for a guest. The father
was torn...put out of the home. He chose

to leave and in a bar he sat,
waiting for that young girl to be

tall enough to see over the bar. She, the
girl that was me, grew into a well soul.

Oh, to imagine that. I love that little girl now.
All the grief and guilt was not really hers...

...as she thought. It was the outside
that made her callous and deep.

She is still who I am now, yet with
an understanding of the tribulations

...she was chosen to endure.

Copyright 12-31-2008 ©® Sarah Sisson