Our Little Daughter
They know she disappeared from the play ground,
her jumper was found on merry go round,
Dad looked everywhere in the park he could,
every day remote hope, return she would,
ten years since that sad day, their eyes still search,
In crowds amongst strangers in malls and church,
A face would someday approach with a smile,
by instinct would know her, although a while,
Would hug their daughter ardently once more,
she was alive somewhere and come ashore,
Her room awaits her as she left that day,
‘Clutching at straws’, she will find her way!
Kai Michael Neumann
“Clutching at straws“ poetry contest
written 11/September/2020
inspired by disappearance of little Madeline M
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