Poetry Tuesday – A Mysterious Soul Wandering Among the Mist

Lost, alone, and gone away,

This poor little child has gone astray,

With her head lying on the cold, damp dirt,

She cries throbbing sobs because of her hurt.

Upon her exposed, ribby chest pours the rain,

Increasing her heartache, her greatest pain.

She sits up and starry-eyed she gazes

At the surrounding walls of a million mazes.

In all this she does recall

Her parents did not love her at all.

Thrown like a rag doll aside,

A bug drowning in pesticide,

She has nowhere to go.

Moping around sluggish and slow,

Like a mysterious soul wandering among the mist,

Perhaps so forgotten that she does not exist.

-written in 1999

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Categories identity, poem, poetry, purpose, tuesday, writingTags , , , , ,

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