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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #116493 |
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The summer her father took his life
She was but ten and still a child. After all these many years, Her thoughts of him grow dim, Faded by time into sepia tones Of distance and pale memories, Dark images of strife, now tempered By ancient sorrow and loss. The cost to a young girl Of the early loss of her father Is hard to measure in her maturity. It is written in failed relationships Throughout her adult life. The circumstances of the loss Of her primary parent make it Difficult for her to trust, To trust any man, who -- Like the parent -- may somehow leave. She can only bear so much loss And protects herself against pain By taking no risks.
© Copyright 2001 Bandit's Mama (UN: sandybrace at Writing.Com).
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