She believed what she was told.
She knew no better.
You are not wanted here little girl,
The words echo still.
Still and dormant she is now,
That little girl.
Once flowing with creativity,
Now still, stagnant water.
No one will watch her dance
Hear her sing
Her finger paintings are not hung
by colored magnets on the refrigerator door.
Stuck in her mind like a splinter of wood,
The words echo still.
Still, she looks in the mirror
And makes funny faces like Popeye
And laughs.
But then she looks from her upward curved lips
Into her own eyes and sees nothing.
But instead hears her own mother's words
You are not wanted here little girl,
The words echo still.
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