A POEM A DAY 357

ON MY OWN

I didn't have a voice
Cause, I didn't matter
I was lost in the melee
The chit and the chatter
Of whose-its and whatnots
And the going-ons
Of a teenaged mother
Granddaughters and grandson
I was lost
I was left alone
To learn about the world
On my own
No one to hold my hand
No one to guide me
So, I made do
But, it wasn't easy
I stumbled and I fell
Scraped my hands and my knees
Like Janie, I was plucked early
A soft pear from the tree
But who was there to teach me
The preciousness of my bloom
Innocence lost
Too fast, too soon

Simona A. Brinson

Photo by Evgeniy Dronov on Unsplash

© Simona A. Brinson and mylifeinword.com All rights reserved.

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