Lost Little Girl…

 

 

I do not know if you are alive or dead.

I see your face your voice never

 

The sun does not rise in the morning, nor

fade into the west without a thought of you.

I mourn, nights are sleepless and morning

eyes fill with fire.

 

No one more cherished, more loved, my

heart bears scars of torture. Where are you

my lost little girl?

 

©2014.annjohnsonmurphree

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