Grace (Cont. 3 )
I reminisce, of my lonely youth : every other month a different MOM and DAD.
I often pretended to be happy : I never PRETENDED to be (MAD) or SAD.
Excuse me sir; my name is GRACE We thank-you for your generosity.
I look upon the innocent with their magical, mystical , hide me from
everything cloak
I could see, through a tiny glimps of their eyes These children were strong
as an oak.
As I drifted, in a daze : my brain not cognizant; floating nowhere, until Grace
spoke.
We are children of darkness, the daytime people look at us in disgust, we
prefer night.
Mama died, and DAD is LOST : I know not who to turn to; I cried somber
tears :
FOR THESE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT
( to be continued )
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