to my mother

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A short ode to a complete stranger.



To my mother


Who are you? I need to know,

Why did you leave me where did you go?

A little girl afraid and alone,

Its cold and hostile,  no where's home.


My name is Layla I'm five feet nine,

I like art and music, I've got brown eyes.

But I'm not a real person, not deep inside

Cos nobody cared that I was alive.


Who are you? Who am I?

Born in London eleventh of July,

Pretty baby, hardly cried,

You might have loved me, should have tried.


Sometimes I wonder what you looked like,

Dark, like me or pale and light,

And what about him, was he there that night,

Did either of you say goodbye.


Who are you? Are you still around?

Are you still close to where I was found?

Perhaps your dead, and asleep in the ground.

Perhaps you read poems.

Who are you?









Submitted: April 19, 2007

© Copyright 2021 layla. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



wow, really personal i can tell, but i like it!! :D well done, most words rhyme nicely

Thu, April 19th, 2007 9:33pm



Thu, April 19th, 2007 5:37pm


Sad story, yet intense....I am so lucky to have my mom still...very,very good....keep sharing!

Fri, April 20th, 2007 8:22pm


thanx and yes u are.

Fri, April 20th, 2007 2:13pm


Hey layla... I can relate to some degree... my ex was also adopted at an early age... we had amny discussions about it... I remember looking at her hollow eyes as she wondered... great piece here... brought back some good memories for me... write on my friend!

Sat, May 19th, 2007 6:39pm

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