It’s okay i’ll pick up the broken pieces of your thoughtless crime,
after all, you are beyond reproach, the responsibility is mine.
I don’t ask that you truly understand, just that you try
so that when I am holding her, I see hope, when she cries.
If you could only pause and open your mind
look at her, that’s when you’ll find.
I give you the answers but if you refuse to look
she will remain an old and dusty unopened book.
Such a simple expression expected daily from them.
Never from you, a futuristic example from which to stem.
You are unique and I will treat you so, do You understand?
You tell her this, me this, the board of governors this,
yet even you don’t believe this bullshit.
In your fight for authority
you’ve forgotten how it is to see.
Lead by example, show her that when she makes a mistake
when the anxiety rises and her words it does take,
show her humanity,
Don’t ask more questions, she has no answer beyond fear
she will only utter what she believes you want to hear,
for this soul crippling reality you give her punishment
another missed opportunity for you to have given nourishment.
She is sorry, her tears the evidence, the lonely walk, the mornings washing
But are you?
Are you sorry that you were unable to see a very simple dated error?
Are you sorry that you punished terror with terror?
Are you sorry that you chose to use words that she could not understand,
and that after, you didn’t hold out your hand?
Are you sorry that your mistake pushed her into a responsive state?
your apology now, would come too late.
Karen Hayward ©2016