My Poster Child

Six-year-old Sam,

still holding the wide-eyed wonder

of a child who trusts the world,

looks out from the passenger side of the go-cart,

having handed her safety to Austin —

a boy who was rarely there,

and when he was,

he was hardly present at all.

Her trusting brown eyes,

filled with innocent hope,

have already known too much sorrow —

pushing the limits of what she can bear,

clinging to a fragile faith

in people who often let her down.

And I realize —

she is the little girl who looked back at me

from the poster in my teenage bedroom,

her silent eyes imploring me

to see her, to recognize her pain.

clr2012

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