Did you catch within the subtle
turn of head, slide of hair on shoulder,
my sense of lost amid your constant
search for perfection?

When I left, leaving all behind, the angel
the son, the whole of my life, and fled
to places unknown on just a bus ticket
and a promise, that sadly, went unfulfilled,
did you not see, that in your search for perfection
you slipped right over me?

I stayed away as long as I could, from my heart
the child who holds my dreams, and my home
for fear of coming back, to the pedestal
that teetered, and often sent me plummeting.

You feigned understanding. Taking the blame,
calling to me in misery, pounding out your
own part in this terrible mistake, on drum,
sending message in the beat, that I was forgiven
to please return, though you'd already sent
the angel away, and the son to parts unknown.

I came back. Believing all you tearfully
told me in those late night phone conversations,
hoping to fall into the arms of forgiveness
and to once again hold my angel close,
to see my son the man, and a family we
would all become again.

Yet, there is a flaw. Do you see the subtle
turn of head, slide of hair, eyes not upon
but always down, weight heavy upon my shoulders
as your search for perfection has begun again.

WhiteRose