He stares at me with those soft brown eyes,
The young child sits still and looks ready to cry.
Curly red hair looks soft to the touch,
His cheeks are pink but not too much.
A solemn young child who needs a hug,
Who had fun outside playing with a ladybug.
What was his crime to be rejected by his dad,
The child was born an innocent lad.
His whole life ended with no loving touch
His father's love he had craved so much.
The painting of his I see, not knowing why.
Showing the pain of the emptiness as time went by.
The man he became still carried the hurt,
Disappointments he faced he tried to avert
But when his son was born he gave love from the start
And his son could be happy with love from his father's heart.
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