Why
A little girl sits and cries,
for the mother,no longer
by her side
Tear's slide down her cheeks
and she sits and weeps
a private battle dwells inside
As she searches for the
answer to why
Why is her mother no longer there
to wipe away her forlorn tears
did her mothers love just die
Is that the answer to why
The gentle breeze teases her curls
the one's her mother once twirled
for the little girl aged five
Is too young to understand why.
I wrote this after watching a friends little girl not understand why her mother had died in 2004
Poetry.com wanted to have it in its book but i didnt think it was that good .
A mistake is always forgivable, rarely excusable and always unacceptable.
Robert Fripp