forgotten
She’s been forgotten
By society
But not forgotten by God
She’s sitting on cold concrete
Surrounded by graffiti
Alone beneath the bridge
In the streets she hears
The screams of the lost
forlorn, she clutches her
Bible in fetus style and
Cries for her mom.
But mom’s been gone
A long time in heaven and
Dad’s doin’ time in jail
An only child with nothing
But bad luck as her tale.
She’s been forgotten
By society
But not forgotten by God
Searching for an angel
Praying for a miracle
No, she’s just not gonna give up
© 2005 lovechild writes
About Me
- S a s h a
- N Y C and Nashville, United States
- Hippie, Gypzy, Biker Chixie. Yep, that's me. www.bikerlady.com and www.chromecowgirl.com - my websites and I welcome your comments in this blog called Down the Road a Peace. Because, after all "do you wanna a peace of me?" : ) I'd love to hear your thoughts, so share them here. Personalize the topic and make it your own by sharing your own experience relative to the topic at hand, or let's create a new topic. U R Loved by Me.
2005/06/29
2005/06/01
She's Finding Her Voice...
Today I sat and composed a most awesome tune by the grace of GOD, inspired by this great book I'm reading about the saga of women in country music, more like the history of these great ladies.
It reminds me of us, the women of today, grinding out a living, squeezing minutes we don't have out of our very souls, to make time, to serve needs. The needs of our families, husbands, careers, friends and kids, with little bit left over for self.
But, women, are we self serving? Mostly not. There's no time to be.
YOu know....the manicure that you keep postponing until...when? When will be convenient? It's always, well, after we do this or that for someone else...or someTHING, needing our attention.
Time that we find our voice...find our voice, because when we cry aloud, we cry from the songs in our hearts...bubbling up from the core....we sing out for answers....question....wonder....the notes arising from the hearth. Yes, the hearth.
What is YOUR voice, meaning, YOUR place, YOUR purpose? What is YOUR VOICE? Beyond the drone of another whining for YOUR attention....
Listen to YOUR voice.
Find your voice.
What is mine? Well, I'm still crying out in song. So, I'll let you know later...
It reminds me of us, the women of today, grinding out a living, squeezing minutes we don't have out of our very souls, to make time, to serve needs. The needs of our families, husbands, careers, friends and kids, with little bit left over for self.
But, women, are we self serving? Mostly not. There's no time to be.
YOu know....the manicure that you keep postponing until...when? When will be convenient? It's always, well, after we do this or that for someone else...or someTHING, needing our attention.
Time that we find our voice...find our voice, because when we cry aloud, we cry from the songs in our hearts...bubbling up from the core....we sing out for answers....question....wonder....the notes arising from the hearth. Yes, the hearth.
What is YOUR voice, meaning, YOUR place, YOUR purpose? What is YOUR VOICE? Beyond the drone of another whining for YOUR attention....
Listen to YOUR voice.
Find your voice.
What is mine? Well, I'm still crying out in song. So, I'll let you know later...
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