“But I lost One”

                      “But I lost One”

Growing up in life, I had many more than mine,

You see, mama entrusted me with (2) more

but (1) got left behind.

On a very cold and intrusive day, mama came to me to say,

today my dear, will surely mark your birth, as a young woman

and that she had to go away, she would convey,

a move she claim, not one pondered but instead, an omen.

Confused to what she had meant and as a young child,

first mind to vent, as her tears pay acquaintance,

to the floor. The tears in her eye, we shared, as we cry

 and it hurt me miserably, to the core.

A child on my own, with two sisters, (left to roam),

(3) mouth’s, no food and no money.

With tears in our eyes and cold nose, left to disguise

The fears, mistrust, and heart, race runny.

Like a mother with cubs, you have bound me to them,

with no sure means of hope and support

If I had it to do all over, allowing you to part that day,

a mission, I well would have, abort.

The air, that night you left, was dead, dark and thick

and couldn’t be cut with a knife,

Like sands in a broken, discarded hour glass,

these are the lost days, of our young life.

 Our sweaters in hand, we made our last stand,

 as she shuffled us, across the floor.

 I wish I could Kiss, your pain away, she said,

 starring at the broken, front screen door.

It was a very sad day, when mama turned, waved

and walked away, a day that will forever haunt me.

Three girls all alone, no place, to now call home,

searching for answers, please god, help thee..

A baby leading babies, from a land of despair,

forced to leave our land, (of once), milk and honey

and where all others, whom once did, (no longer), care.

As we walked our journey to somewhere,

I felt the ever presence, of being nowhere,

but we patrolled this road, we felt, led

miraculously back home..

Barely with cloths, dirty, hungry and with no shoes

on our feet, we were all three, alone and now on the run

through the deep, dense woods we scampered forward,

and was told by you, to follow the setting sun.

I’ll meet you at the cross roads, so no longer look back,

A breads loaf, was our only food and we lit the night,

with a rusty old lantern named jack.

And at the roads bend, you said we would meet again

and that it was best, we explored the road,

from both ends.

Nightfall fell heavily, with the pungent smell,

of despair in the air,

but to bed now, would be a fore sure omen,

so we knew not dare.

Food was becoming desperately depleted

and water, slightly dirty and mercuric

to the taste.

Determined to complete our quest, we pressed on,

with no time to waste.

The roughness of the road, did finally take its toll,

as it wore the soles, of our foot ware,

causing us three, to have to share.

Left with just one pair of shoes, now between us three,

we marched on, feet bare.

If we didn’t make it soon, enter the buffoon and there’d be,

no deep need, time, are care.

The “free” night air, lingered, hung low,

all hot and ‘’quite sticky,”

but we didn’t complain, we were still in the game

and nor, were we three, ‘’quite picky.”

So we lay, for a short while, “you sleep” but within my head,

 I hear,’’ loud-proud,’’ as mama, had gently bent to say,

 ‘’take care of my babies for me,” for this journey,” (had I promised), you see,

 to watch over, mamas youngest and middle child, that day.

 Her birthday of (9), in (3) days and her whole life has she,

already, forced seen…

Although this sleep deprivation, now pose as a sanctuary, isn’t to bargain with,

when answering to it, “ransom free.”

Morally tired, from head to toe, I had drifted away,

(into) deep sleep…………… (My foe).

For now, morning has arrived, last night, a thing of the past,

With our most darkest hour behind us but clearly,

not to be the last.

You see, Mama trusted me with two but one has now strayed,

the last we had spoken, was last night, (we prayed).

With Mamas middle child now missing, and her younger,

Crying feverishly, for home,

Mama, what am I to say, “I lost one today,” for this journey,

had stolen, one of our own.

Dear mama, how I tried, up to this day, I still cry,

the night, she disappeared, as we lay.

For many months have gone by, a heart left broken,

Waiting, wantingly, to die.

Until the day, we meet again, on my knees, to be found bend,

for a simple gesture, are moment, to just say, (hey)...

“Which way did you go,” a heart, raced at its low,

I had asked, with no return answer.

Left dumb founded, yet baffled, a vast forest with no Scafell.

And left as awkward, (as a two), left feet dancer.

My dear sister, where can you be, you had once promised me,

time would be on our side.

In the dark, (now all alone), a child lost, no route, known to have roam,

And it would be the last, I’d see of her and confide.

Brenda sweet child, (accompanied with a quaint smile),

Mom quietly, yet contently, conveyed.

A child left that day, with three hearts, bound in faith,

your only armor, a dream, a ray of hope and to pray.

On a mission of hope, you three, set out to be long,

but only two made it home, sad birds, with broken songs.

He, (my dear), who succumbs to stumbles and falls, accepts failure,

as an option.

For failure thrives, only in the absence, of an asserted effort.

You see the path you paved, was one never before made,

not by one but (you), brought home two.

Like the Shepard you have saved, as many lambs,

as God (didn’t) forbade, and I owe it all too (you).

The fundamental building blocks, which makes us who we are,

in lieu of our search for survival, kicked in gear that dreadful day,

we spoke as (one), no more.

A child left home but a woman returned, when you walked back through,

that screen door.

Let the truth be told, we had to leave that day,

our village was well under seize,

a country, politically incorrect, our homeland, must we now, defect,

from a cancer, and a well-known, formidable disease,(Man).

You see, we would soon see, the true value, of our gender,

If we mistakenly waited, any longer.

Diamonds in the rough, were we and to them, (in the right hands),

Nothing was considered to be stronger.

Three innocent, young, healthy girls, would have been sold, as

a commodity to the highest of bidder,

property of another, breeds a hated life so bitter, in layman’s terms,

to be labeled as a servant and they, (our piped fiddler).

For we held these truths, to be of self-evident, that (All) men,

Was said to be created equal.

Yet, to be forced from your land, not by nature, but by (same color),

violent man,

lends special emphasis and prudence, too those, I carefully call or consider,

to be, (my people).

As I look back and wonder, (why), my dear sister, must I continue to ponder,

the many reasons, for you to have gone?

I‘ve searched high to low, with no directions, known, to go,

so we sit, all three, (mom, Julie and me), waiting for you,

to come home.

Jim

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