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LenMcC1
Member

since 1999-11-09

Posts 68

0 posted 2000-05-13 01:55 AM

My Little Girl

My Little Girl
Always thought the world
would only bring her pearls
but what happens if
the world doesn't give
instead it takes
but make no mistake
she always does awake
cause she's my little girl

Hurt calls her name
it always sounds the same
the voice will never change
but her life is rearranged

A sunny sky never rains
except when there is shame
and always there is blame
but she never runs
from the clouds covering the sun
and hopefully she will learn
how resist all her concerns
Or in hell she will burn
cause she's my little girl

Hurt calls her name
it always sounds the same
the voice will never change
but her life is rearranged

Now here comes the end
a helping hand I will not lend
but often I will send
a letter or a poem
telling her to roam
away from her fears
so she can get clear
and break away from all those years
cause she's my little girl

Hurt calls her name
it always sounds the same
the voice will never change
but her life is rearranged

Temptress

Moderator

Member Rara Avis

since 1999-06-15

Posts 7136
Mobile, AL

1 posted 2000-05-13 02:01 AM

The innocence of childhood is what this one made me think of.

Funny how it is often wasted or misused by people.

Great work.

Nothing can deter a poet, for he is actuated by pure love. Who can predict his comings and goings? "Thoreau"

netswan
Senior Member

since 2000-03-28

Posts 1369
Washington

2 posted 2000-05-13 02:14 AM

My goodness, Len, I am sorry, but I
do not understand this poem at all.

netwan

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

3 posted 2000-05-13 04:35 AM

Len~
I'm not sure if I understand exactly what you're saying with this.

My children could never go so far in their 'roams' that this mother's heart would not reach out and grasp them and give them every helping hand I could.

I would wish for you that you build the bridge to your child.
Bless you both.
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
[email protected]

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