I cry for the little girl who was rejected.
I cry for the child who was ignored, and for the baby who wasn’t loved,
Deeply I grieve for her – she, who was never told she was enough, more than enough.
That time after time the message has been you are not good enough, you are not enough,
For what love there was did not include her.
Never was she completely seen for what she is – and Her veiled appearance became her personality,
Too many times he only saw his reflection bouncing back to him; he did not allow himself to see Her,
And so the parts unseen in her could only reflect himself,
No wonder he cannot love Her, for he can only see himself.
Is it possible to love her for who and what she is?
Not to approve of her,
To be acknowledged for who and what she is, not for approval, not for acclaim,
© Lynn Paterson 2016