A Childhood Lost

Stands by the train door
Staring at the floor
Tired-looking mam,
Baby in its pram;
Needs to learn fast
What life’s really for.

Miserable as sin,
Her life in a spin,
One careless moment,
A lifetime’s torment;
Can’t fix the past
With a safety pin.

“Why me?” she sighs,
Tears in her eyes,
Counting the cost
Of a childhood lost.

All she feels is dread,
Wishes she was dead,
Her life’s hers no more;
Child that she bore
Cries out to be fed.

“Why me?” she sighs,
Tears in her eyes,
Counting the cost
Of a childhood lost.

@ rowland paul hill 1 October 2019 

Re-write of a poem I initially wrote in 2005, based on a sighting on the Tyneside Metro on my way home from work.