With each day that passes and each night that haunts

I miss her more than one could believe was possible.

She's too young to realize what she needs or wants

or to understand between not wanting to and unable.

If I had my way, I'd be there every second of every day

to be present for each feeding, every cry, or her smile.

Yet not all fathers are permitted to have an equal say

and have to accept limited visits every once in a while.

Missing out on the bonding is enough to break my heart

but there is more than one person's feelings to consider.

It's a harsh reality when parents spend their lives apart

so I must accept things as they are without a whisper.

I accept some blame for my own lacking of access,

and one day I shall beg the child for her forgiveness.