“Little Girl Lost”

“Little Girl Lost”


I work ‘second shift’ and tonight I stayed late
--so I stop in at Pop’s corner store.
I stay for a cup, though his coffee ain’t great
--and I stare out the steamy glass door.

I see a young girl, sitting out near the street
--and she can’t be much more than fourteen.
Her shoulders are hunched with a look of defeat
--and her clothing’s not overly clean.

I motion to Pop and ask “Hey, what’s with her?”
--and he says, “She’s been there for two days.
I offered her chips; she said ‘No thank you, sir’.
--She just sits there and shivers and prays.”

I finish my coffee and head on my way,
--but the thought of that girl makes me fret.
She’s there all alone; I hope she’ll be okay.
--I just try to make myself forget.

Next night, after work, I go back and see Pop
--and I ask him about the young miss.
“Some guy dragged her off; she was limp as a mop.”
--I had worried it might come to this.

Each night for a week, I came down to Pop’s store,
--hoping I would see her safe and sound.
I had premonitions too hard to ignore.
--I kept wishing that soon she’d be found.

“So, why do you worry about her like this?”
--Pop was asking me night after night.
“I think she’s a runaway, just like my sis,
--but at least my sis knew how to fight.”

I saw in the paper, two weeks from that day,
--a young girl was found dead near Pop’s store.
They gave a description; I knew right away.
--She’s the girl that I’d been watching for.

With no one to help her, this ‘little girl lost’,
--she’d had nowhere to turn for advice.
She paid for her freedom; her life was the cost,
--but she’d never known that was the price.


3-19-07

rhyme: abab
meter: 11-9-11-9