We are all the same to you, the girls who turn up on the news each night lost or missing, and no one really looks for us why should they we are the girls from the streets. I have been lost for such a long time I don’t even remember if I ever had a home or someone who loved me. Better to be without a name or face to those who pick me up like a rag, use me then throw me back on the pile of junk in a corner. One day, I will be found dead in a ditch and who will care I mean whoever finds me will have dreams haunted by my eyes staring at the stars for maybe a few nights then I will be the same as all those other girls he or she has heard of on the news without a name or a face.
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Author:
juliette72 (
Offline) - Published: August 17th, 2024 23:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
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Comments1
This is tragic and like a punch to the gut knocks the wind out of any father. It speaks to the soul of what should be humanity and asks what are we that we care less for our own than dogs do for theirs. A heavy emotional poem and that is what poetry is about touching the emotions.
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