A FULL SHELF BY FIONA CUMMINGS

A FULL SHELF

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

A little girl so lost and alone

No pals has to play on her own

Constantly falling and hurting herself

Sits in the library last book on the shelf

Silence surrounds her

Feeling like no one there to care

Treats she can’t share

Touches her hair

What does it look like?

Looks in the mirror

Nothing, as she has no sight

Wants to ride a bike

But her parents are too afraid

Wants to make sand castles

With a bucket and spade

As the ocean roars in the distance

She hears children playing

Who is that girl

She can hear them saying

So badly she wants to say hello

But in fear of rejection

Just like before

Once again she will face a closed door

Chained to her Mother’s hand

Who doesn’t’ understand

This little girl needs a life

Yes she will get into strife

But this is better than feeling so lonely

At her house it’s so homely

But the little girl isn’t happy

She hears tears from her Daddy

She wants to run free in the woods so sappy

Climb Mountains

Dance in fountains

Run for the ice cream van

Go out whenever she can

Not be tied to her Mum

Restricting her of any fun

She doesn’t want to be treat differently

She wants to sing in harmony

She wants to read like you

She wants to put on paper ink of blue

She has been told she has to live away from home

In a strange and cold zone

This is her only chance in life

But the pain of that cuts like a knife

This little girl is so much loved

But she is fed up of being laughed at and shoved

Her parents have to cut the rope

If there is to be any hope

As sadly this world

Has no time for this little girl

So behind gates she must go

To learn how to cope

To run freely

And be with her other family

Children like her

So sweet and pure

Born into this land

Where still people don’t understand

Next time you see a little girl like this

Show her your heart

Rather than your fist

Know she is like you

Just her eyes don’t work like yours do

In the future you just don’t know

A little girl like her, could be born to you

Please compassion, can you show

Perhaps it’s not fashion, but it won’t hurt you know?

She could be your sister

You’re Mother of the future

Your granddaughter

Your teacher

Allow the little girl to laugh

Love and believe in her

And give her the books, to fill up the shelf

 

Copyright Fiona Cummings 2015