Given the Chance
She smiles saintly
in the mirror, young and sweet,
wholesome and alive.
She's holding some socks,
innocently trying to
pull them on her hands
like she used to when
we played puppets together
for a brief moment
in our tangled lives.
The small bespectacled boy
asks me what I see.
What could I answer?
Emotions well in my heart;
I look at the socks.
If given the chance,
I would take back that fateful
day, take back those years,
give up ev'rything
to change what happened,
just to see her face,
be with her again,
and beg forgiveness from her.
He's looking at me
expectantly, the
innocence in his green eyes
like this little girl's,
his future still bright,
and I almost tell him my
secret, just almost.
Socks, I simply say,
watching as confusion streaks
across his pale face.
She, in the mirror,
laughs sweetly at my response,
and it is all that
I can do to stop
the tears and raw emotion
from spilling out.