Since her birth she was given
No warmth to fill her soul.
Keeping her on a strict schedule
Is her mother’s only goal.

Longing for acceptance
And hugs from someone close,
Her mother’s arms to hold her near
Is what she needs the most.

I see her crying for her mom.
She wants her bottle so.
Why does she make her baby wait
And sternly tell her no?

“What a good-mannered baby,
So well-behaved”, others think.
But I know how she got in that solemn state
And my heart just wants to sink.

Strict schedules and inflexibility
To babies are unfair.
They can make their own routines,
So give them extra care.

When she sobs she’s rarely soothed
I want to say, "It's okay.
Don’t worry, little one.
You will be comforted one day.”

I want to hug her tight
And whisper in her ear,
“I’m here for you. Please don’t cry.”
As I quietly shed a tear.

Copyright 2000 Brenda Weatherly

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