I know the price you both have paid
when I ran away from your father.
I'm sorry for the part I played
in taking you away from one another.
I can say I'm sorry until I die,
but inside your heart you still ask, "Why?"
I know that, and it's not like I can
expect you to forgive, or to understand.
I don't know what more I can do
to prove to you that my love is true.
I don't know what else I can say
to make all your pain go away.
For leaving your father--
for leaving you, my daughter--
for breaking his heart--
and for tearing us all apart--
I'm paying penance.
Copyright ©2008 Rose Mary West Ekerholm
AKA Plethorarosie
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