Stolen, they were stolen,
against her will taken.
Not evil in intent
but in perceived ownership ~
possession captured unaware.
Shutter clicking,
girl is blinking
away internal tears.
Why do they always want this? she wonders,
shamed and horrified.
Then came the day of trying
to please mother the same way:
surely she would want an image
of her child all grown, dressed well?
But no, a new rejection ~
confusion settles in;
these pictures now are all painful,
clothed or not she pays.
Years pass in quiet presence,
heart lifting and falling,
then lifting into vow.
Perhaps things would be better now
and time would erase all?
But . . .
"Can I see your picture?"
man asks his unseen friend.
Her old fears rise from buried place:
"No, it will change your mind ~
you will see me differently,
label me on sight."
She prefers things as they are.
It is the beginning of the end,
for image changed how others saw,
face to a name spelled gone.
And she'd been right in this case,
temptation destroyed all.
Heart broken once again
her soul drifted in grey shades,
until finally new dawn encroached,
stirred ember,
woke her sleeping spirit's song.
"I saw your picture" came again
and she prepared to part,
but this time to her great surprise
friend stayed,
offered his own,
taught her something new and bright:
shutters didn't have to hurt,
respect could change it all,
acceptance come to wounded heart,
permission balm to damaged soul.
