The Lonely Child

Published January 18th, 2007

 

A tear slowly slides down a small cheek 

Pauses for a moment 

Then, urged from behind continues its journey 

The child shuffles her feet as a tear 

Falls softly to the ground 

The face on which it has traveled 

Remains calm - eyes bright, pleading 

Willing the onlooker to care 

But no one does 

She returns to the only place left where she feels safe 

Where there are no expectations 

No angry voices, no shattered toys only guilt and loneliness 

Which are better – somehow 

The realisation that she is all she has strikes – hard 

Once having a pink ceramic elephant to love 

And then suddenly not even that. 

She is growing old – at six 

Older now and wiser 

Tears are shed alone – 

Wishing only that the Medusa would appear 

And turn her heart into stone, 

Her body into unfeeling rock 

She waits 

In bed at night 

For someone to come and care for her 

Someone does 

But he’s not the Medusa 

And he doesn’t seem to care

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