Mirrored Eyes

Looking into his mirrored eyes
I see myself haunted by the past.
 
Running a unsteady hand across his cheek
I wonder about what else I may mess up.
 
Alone, yet not alone
as I sit in the bosom of the family.

How cruel life seems at times,
taking it upon it's self to laugh, cry and through rocks at you.
 
The hate swelling inside ready to burst
like a untamed volcano.
 
Never knowing what will happen
and never knowing what to do when it does.

How to explain to a beautiful child
that you destroyed their life before they even had a chance to live.
 
Than I shake my head and the mirrored eyes are gone
and all I see is my beautiful baby boy.

 
Natasha J. Shotwell
1011pm
1-31-07