Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Lost Child

The small child that hangs on the wall
Seems to bear no resemblance to me.
Who was that child?
Confident, loved? I don't see that.
Hurt, lost, abandoned?
With time, perception altered.

Or is this the overlayed,
Imprint on that image,
With the benefit of hindsight?

She sits, with a still smile
fixed forever on her small face.
The delicate tints of the colourist,
Interpreting the given details.
The accoutrements fake,
Added, to try to bring that smile.

This portrait, hung on the wall.
For most of my life, a constant.
I still look upon that smiling face,
And know the false picture
presented there.


  1. I sometimes do not recognize myself in the mirror. I do think all of our selves are inside just longing to be heard. I recently read that one could once again see through the eyes of your 4 year old just by remembering how the world looked when you were little. I tried it and it WAS seeing with Beginner's Eyes.
    Thanks for a wonderful poem.

  2. I look at my first grade photo and wonder about the little girl with no hint of a smile and sad eyes... ??

  3. Many years ago my (now teenaged) daughter asked her grandmother who was the little girl in the photo, and could not believe it was Gran! "But where did the lines come from?" she asked looking at my mother and back to the photo.