To My Daughter Whom I’ve Never Met

I’ve never been good at writing, but it seems the only way I can express myself. Please forgive any improper usage. I hope that my other success in life will speak for my intellect. Unfortunately, though we’ve never met I may never know you. It is the failures of my life that speak higher volumes. It seems hard even now to justify your life in a world that holds fewer promises of light. How hard it is for a single flame to illuminate the darkness. Too many times have I been quelled to the last ember, waiting for breath of air never knowing if it will birth a flame or smother its last vestiges of being entirely. Life can be tricky that way. The jumanjatic nature of it all means once your piece is played, you are beholden to the game. The game has not been kind to me. I have been a pawn for the pleasures of others. I have lived a dark silence no one should have to experience. I have been my mother, but I will not have you become yours. I vowed to be the end and because of that you will never begin. 

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