I long for something
that was never mine.
Tha I had one of my own,
long ago.
And grieved for when I was young,
but pushed away when I was grown.

I long for something,
that had failed me,
took me for a fool,
a clown for my own entertainment.
I long for a word,
a kindness,
a hand extended,
a glance that would notice,
when I looked pretty.

I long for the warm *****,
of a womanly form,
a fragrance I recognise,
of a wrinkled face with a smile.

I* gave away the womb that bore me.
I lost the one I didn't.
The only voice who told I was beautifull,
is now forever stilled.