Grace (Cont. 3 )

I reminisce, of my lonely youth : every other month a different MOM and DAD. I often pretended to be happy : I never PRETENDED to be (MAD) or SAD. Excuse me sir; my name is GRACE We thank-you for your generosity. I look upon the innocent with their magical, mystical , hide me from everything cloak I could see, through a tiny glimps of their eyes These children were strong as an oak. As I drifted, in a daze : my brain not cognizant; floating nowhere, until Grace spoke. We are children of darkness, the daytime people look at us in disgust, we prefer night. Mama died, and DAD is LOST : I know not who to turn to; I cried somber tears : FOR THESE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT ( to be continued )