Permission to Forgive

This is for you

the mother who lied,

who cradled a glass

Instead of your child.

You ask me to forgive

for the life, you let pass by,

a life of mere existence

for a child who didn’t cry.

Did you ignore?

Or perhaps not care

if she woke in the dark

to find you not there.

A lonely child

with a silent voice,

to care for you

her only choice.

No words of love

No warm embrace,

an empty heart

and a tear stained face.

You ask me to forgive

that I cannot do;

I won’t betray the child

or dismiss what she went through.

You have always had my heart

it didn’t fully break;

forgive yourself the past

and a future we might make.