Somewhere in childhood
beneath the gray of the sky
this child
the poet of one day to be
finds herself alone beneath a tree
within deep thoughts of her reality
Too young to truly understand
Too old for tears
to remain totally disguised
Awaits The Child . . .
The child of no smiles
for the coming of the sun
Too soon the gray of Winter's day
falls upon one so young
She speaks to the clouds
watching as they shape
the pictures of her mind
Is what she is seeing
. . . what is real?
True smiles so hard to find
Loved so in one moment
then . . . the moment gone
is she the only one that views this
as somehow being oh so wrong?
The angel of one moment
'bad girl' in the next
Which is she in reality?
Oh who gives a HECK!!!!
She is NOT a bad girl!
Or perhaps . . .
within what she cannot understand
she IS the little girl that has caused
the hateful words and heavy hand
to find their reasons to be unfurled?
Held between she loves me
She loves me not
Wanting to believe all is well
but sometimes finding it
so very hard to see
Awaits the child of yesterday
within the passing of day to night
Tis now the woman of today
that resumes the search
within still too many starless skies
Memories in shades of gray
finds still the child of yesterday
