My Mother's Childhood

I remember the day my mother told me of her childhood,
a naughty sparkle in her eyes.
And I travelled far off lands with her,
and we danced and sang and played with our dolls,
and stole berries from her neighbour,
and then ran off hand in hand.
And that day I saw a different side,
so different from the one that cooked and cleaned and fussed and scolded,
and I saw my mother's inner child.
I remember the day my mother told me of her childhood,
and will remember it all my life.

Trapped

With my childhood Gone, I feel like I'm left with nothing,

standing on the shores of time all alone.

Forced to wear the veil of a woman, the girl inside flutters.

Gone the laughter, Gone the games, I'm just left with pain,

feels like after a long drought, I'm waiting for rain.

With all exits closed, I'm stuck where I am,

where I have always been.

Today, I find myself more trapped than a caged bird,

and the walls of the cage are closing in on me.

Suffocating me to sweet bliss that is death.