I Don't Understand

I don't understand.
I don't understand nature's cruelty,
the way the ones we need are free to come and go as they please
despite their admirer's attachment.
Or the way a mother can leave her child
as that child's hands reach out to her,
with tiny, soft, untainted fingers straining
to reach its creator's most precious touch.
Really?
Is reciprocation too difficult when it's so
terribly insincere?
Perhaps then you can understand my
aversion to you now,
for children grow and come to understand,
just not all,
because abandonment and ignorance
prevail,
just as they always have,
and ironically,
that is what I still do not understand.