Where is the little girl

Who loved to dance, spin, and twirl

She sat on my knee

And was so proud when she counted to three

Scared of the dark, she came running to me


Her smile lit up a bad day

Always outside where she loved to play

Where are the toys scattered though the house

Where are her dolls and her little stuffed mouse


Why is my little girl not here

To make noise and cheer

I don’t hear her shoes on the floor

Why is her tiny voice no more


Gone is my little girl

My treasure my pearl

I will never again see her tired eyes close

Hear her soft breathing

As her chest fell and rose


I would give anything to hear her sleepy sigh

Or even to hear her cry

Nothing is the same

The house is too quiet to tame


No more sticky hands

No more interrupted plans

No sweet voice singing a song

My little girl is gone

2 thoughts on “Gone

    1. It’s something I wrote a few years ago. I’m not sure where it came from actually. I just remember thinking about all the things I would miss if my little sister weren’t around (she’s 13 years younger than me, so she’s more like my child sometimes than my sister) and I just sat down and wrote this.
      I’m glad you liked it!

      Liked by 1 person

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