Friday, February 12, 2010

Little girl

Little girl,
Search as you might
There ain't no road to find
Mere traces of an old life
You won't leave behind

Curl yourself up
Cry your eyes out
Watch the sun as it fades
In the horizon
And then follows
A lonely night

Run to your bed
Full speed ahead
Burry yourself
In a timed tomb
Pleased that it's all
Come to an end

And then comes the mornimg
A pesky alarm announces
Totter to your mimmor
The far end of the room
Raise your hands to your face
Trace the creases
Devouring your forehead

One more day has passed


Brian Miller said...

oh this one is a bit sad...a reflection on aging...i dont ever want to let go of my little boy...or let him get lost in the creases...

Kimberly Franklin said...

Sad, but beautiful. I loved this. : )

Oddyoddyo13 said...

Wow. That was so unbelievably beautiful.

Susan said...

Beautiful but sad. Great piece.

Felicitas said...

Very thought-provoking. Certainly not how I expect to experience aging but for many, letting go of youth is difficult.

Magpie said...

Lovely and so touching.

Anonymous said...

Is aging so bad that it devours you? Maybe its the other way, that you melt into it with grace and perfect meaning. Great poem, love the femininity of your language :P

Maha said...

Aging is easy only when you accept the fact of it being inevitable

Ann said...

I like how you captured that drop of water before it drops. I am fascinated by that, and have never captured it on my camera.

Good poem,
Thanks for following.