|You share the face of the man who raped my heart.
You, with a tongue that spins lies in the form of veils,
you pull them over my eyes so that I don't know what you're really up to.
I called you Michael in your sleep.
My beautiful daughter, you wear his face of sin.
Cheater, liar, I can expect no more from you;
but still I try to see you as someone else.
Your innocence shattered at the wrath of a man
and I ran, hoping that he would learn and come for us.
Instead, we were betrayed but still you clung close.
You saw him as a god, and I tried to tear that image from you.
I couldn't protect you from yourself or even me.
You, little Michael, pointed out my flaws in vicious tongue
and threw objects in fits of rage and I knew that I could not love you.
I attempted to pull his DNA from your blood,
but you screamed in vain
and ran out from under my wings,
back to the man who took everything from us.
Michael, you never came back for me,
not even to retrieve your legacy you left in our daughter.
© Copyright 2012 J. Linds (UN: jessicaconk at Writing.Com).
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