Lost Love
My mom was the prettiest mom.
I look for her, she can't be found.
No more cookies and milk after school,
nor smile when asked how was your day.
Instead I hear this is your stepmom Denise.
I was five.
Dads in jail.
I cry myself to sleep.
I'm six.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
