Thursday, 2 February 2012

Poetry - The Girl With no Name

The girl with no name

Sits on a red painted peeling bench

Surrounded by a pool of green grass

Looking out onto rocks and a lake

She is invisible

No one sees her

With her bright yellow scarf

And navy wool jacket

The autumn breeze bustling by

Large grey shapes shuffle and shuffle

She is worthless

No one validates her

The huge cradle she was rocked in

Loud cries at her birth

Memories of sandboxes and warm lunches

Promises and learning and diplomas unfulfilled

She is not a person

No one will hire her

The girl with no name

Sits on the edge of a blue double bed

Looking down at her worn Nikes
A man's underpants and crayons strewn

She has no identity

No one will call out “Sarah”

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