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.

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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.