The Handmade Card

(Inspired by Archana’s experience)

Ah, there she goes 
Sweet child of mine
But not mine
I wish I could hold her 
And watch her sleep – 
To bedtime stories
I wish I could be a father to her – 
A guide
A teacher
But I am sentenced to condemnation
This day 
When her birthday falls
I am incompetent
And unworthy
To bless her
May my love be
In the very essence of this card
I’ve made
With my murderous hands
Longing for mercy
Reaching out to love
Though condemned
She will forgive me
Her smile gives me hope
She’s the only one
Who sees me for the person
I really am
Behind the person I’ve become
An injured soul
Behind prison bars