by: Yolanda B. Botigan/ March 1992
In the midst of a twilight
I sat down alone, forgotten
Eyes wide, mind set
Tracing towards an unknown plight.
Quiet place – I took strength to stand
A teary child, alone, I spied
Like me, another lost seed, I sighed.
Deep a feeling froze inside
Trembling, I slowly took a little stride
Alone, dirty, hungry, tired and helpless
Why? Where? Hopeless?
Who are you? Nobody.
From where are you? Nowhere.
Then lost like me, you are
Yes, just existed and no more.
Growing little seeds --- lost
Beauty of life, dispossessed
Unnamed tomorrow, scattered
Even just a single light
In darkness, little lost seeds …
Grow but groping
Eat but begging
In clothes but unclothed.
Yes, lost, they are
Lost, lost, lost
Will they ever be LOST?
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