A Letter To Abigail And Gabriella
I would love to say I know, but may only guess
What your voices sound like, or what likeness
Your visages truly take-I wonder: 'still like me! ? '
Tragically, I still know not when be, for myself, I might see-
Or when mine ears may partake in your melodious voices!
I lament that I was never given choices,
And that I am sure to be portrayed, as much
Less honorable than I am-as such,
I am also sure to be unfairly villified
As a 'dead beat', or someone equally unqualified
To seek empathy from a world already biased against me!
I may as well stand mute, but then who would the antagonist be?
This is a fate I would never wish upon anyone;
My heart aches more all the time, and will before this day is done.
There exists a void in my soul naught may measure,
As I mourn the Angels, with whom I have never spoken, but treasure
More than anything else in this whole world-
Tonight, this Father weeps for the little girls
Who were never given forums to voice their wants!
No one should ever be treated so callously-it haunts
Me each and every day of my life-
That I may not now do aught, to affect your strife!
You suffering is ignored, because it does not comport
With the wants of your guardians, and those with whom they consort;
On more than one occasion, my acquiescence has been sought-
Though my cooperation may not be bought,
Not when I am asked to sign away
My parental rights-no, not this or any other day!
Time is the only ally that truth really needs-
As time marches on, truth obviates and deceit concedes!
Nowhere will this be more crystal clear,
Than when our estrangement ceases and you are again near-
So that I might answer each and every query,
To allay your fears, where now, you are surely leery!
To Abigail: I tried my beloved-God knows I really tried,
To offer you the best life; I even lied
To myself, for as long as I possibly could-
You were my only love, it would have done no good
To pretend I was enamored by your Mother;
It was doomed from the start and cost me the friendship of another
Extraordinary lady, that my heart laments to this day!
That I may supplant that ardor foregone, I do pray!
To Gabriella: Our estrangement is perhaps easier to explicate:
I am sure by now you are privy to the paranoia she did create!
One may not battle such ignorance, with ration or reason-
Her delusional deceit became soon, her all-consuming treason!
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poem by Maurice Harris
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