I search the endless rooms inside,
Looking for the child inside,
Wondering what she'll have to say,
Considering I had abondaded her this way,
I barely remember the few times she had free range,
Otherwise she was always gettin shortchanged,
Locked back inside in order to survive,
In order to stay somewhat alive,
I don't know if I'll be able to say I'm sorry,
Or if she'll understand my story,
Her luminous brown eyes are a distant memory,
I hope she can forgive me,
I want to gather her in my arms and cry,
Wipe the dust from here face and sigh,
I think I'll be searching for awhile,
She has to be feeling hostile,
But I need her so I can heal us,
And earn back my own trust,
She is me and I left her in this dark place,
Will I even recognize her face?
Little girl, where have you gone?
Comments
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This is a very sad, but powerful lament. You have described in heart-rending words the search for the child inside who suffered, with no one to console her. Somehow you managed to grow up, move on, but the child is still there, hurting, waiting. When you do find the child, there will be lots of tears, but you will finally be able to look with love on the child and you will both be comforted. Yes, I speak from experience, although I wasn't writing at the time, and I needed a therapist to help me on my search. Perhaps your writing, which is very well-done, will serve the same purpose. Don't give up. It is worth finding the child! I send many blessings your way.
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Actually, this was 'homework' given to me by my therapist.
Thank you for the comment.
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Well, kudos to your therapist and to you! Your homework is astounding! All the best, as always.
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