The Girl I was.

Sometimes I see her, a sad shy girl.

But it is only a memory

Sometimes, I see her sad down cast face and long to hold her.

Sometimes, when I try, I’ll see her cry and long to wipe the tears away.

Sometimes ,when I am imagining, I think of things to tell her.

Sometimes I find myself saying things like; “You are worth a lot! Why can’t you see?”

But, she cannot see or hear me.

For she only lives in my memory, now.

Sometimes, when I’m lost in time, upset about the past…

I see her face again and mourn the girl I was.


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