I am repudiated; the approval and acceptance I want is absent, or long in coming. Rejection is like a cloak I wear, I hang it up but it keeps returning, like the cat that couldn’t stay away. I am running in circles, going nowhere and seeing no deliverance.
Abortion, like a spirit, killing off the young; the aged not wanting to lose ground or the control they’ve fought their lives to achieve. The old are not safe either; a revolution of euthanasia, to eject the useless lives perceived to have no value any longer.
I run to your presence and feel your arms reach for me. I am accepted here, and I find my peace.