Lost

Lost – Jacqueline Nash

Where has she gone,
my inner child,
she no longer talks to me,
although I sense she is there,
somewhere.

How I miss her innocence,
her capacity to forgive,
her capability to understand,
to make allowances and excuses
for those who know no better,
with not a bad thought or
bad word for anybody,
her patience,
how I miss her patience.

Has she become trapped behind
the stone wall of cynicism,
buried beneath the rocks
of disappointment,
lost in the mist of broken dreams,
is she hiding;
hiding from the anger.

Every now and then I sense
her struggling to emerge.

Sometimes,
very briefly,
very faintly,
I hear an echo of her voice
from the past.

Sometimes,
just sometimes;
I think I hear her crying.

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