to my mother

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short ode to a complete stranger.

Submitted: April 19, 2007

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Submitted: April 19, 2007

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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?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2018 layla. All rights reserved.

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