The Lost Girl

The Lost Girl

Her life was like a piece of blank paper,
Dull, insipid.
Restrained in a cage-like space,
Barren, dreary.
Like a dog chained to a leash,
With no means of escape.

Solemn had her expression become,
Bitter was her heart.
Neither subtle hints of happiness,
Nor gentle creases of laughter,
Grace her once beautiful features.
The twinkle that once belonged to her eyes
Had long been out of reach.

She was once innocent,
Naïve as a lamb and
Bright as the mid-day sun.
Her mother’s death while she was small
Struck her like a bolt of lightning.
Her family fell apart.
Her father submitted to drinking,
And abused her at will.

So many years have gone by,
Since I have last looked into her sorrowful eyes.
I wonder where she is now
And how she is getting by.
How I long to see her again,
However painful it may be.
For although it grieves me to pry at her wounds,
I must lend her a helping hand
And guide her in her quest for freedom.


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