Poem: Little Girl Lost – 01/01/20

 I rush through the forest in my mind,
 searching for the correct path to tread.
 It seems all the red cedar trees 
 are up against me,
 surrounding my path, 
 they growl and grow,
 their presence is immense.
 I hurtle from one trunk to the next
 seeking out that which might be 
 tied to it or hung from a thick branch
 but nothing I see fits the view I beg to see,
 I hurtle from tree to tree. 
 I am frantic, 
 I have little time left
 to search out what I require
 and what requires my hands.
 The feeling of helpless hopelessness 
 washes over me as I begin to 
 lose all sense of control,
 I just want to save them and leave.
 It is essential for me to rescue the past,
 to carefully hold it close,
 not allow others a glance,

 but it is difficult to save something 
 from certain evils of the world,
 its judgmental eyesight,
 its mocking, lack of understanding 
 of a once hopeful girl. 
 Because that is who I am saving,
 my younger self,
 who made mistakes, 
 so many,
 yet here I am,
 in a world where I can feel proud 
 of what I am doing.
 The life which I lead is 
 worth feeling pride for, 
 I have walked many miles,
 and with a sudden sense of relief,
 my eyes fall upon that little girl. 
 About twenty, is she,
 am I, rather,
 on the precipice, of where I will fall,

 but now I reach and untie this 
 little naïve, gullible being
 and save her from her imminent future,
 the experiences she no longer 
 has to live and solve.
 And rush do we through the cedar trees, 
 time is ticking for our survival, 
 for her to return to my world of safety
 but something is dragging her behind, 
 the air of heavy history,
 and I realise she must live it 
 in order for my current self to breathe.
 It is with heavy sadness that I let my 
 tight grasp of her hand go
 and her outstretched arm falls limply,
 into the darkness she melds. 
 © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

 All images signed “LMH” 
 are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock 
 and all rights reserved. 

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