The lost Child

Standard

She has a heart

That knows no rhyme

A head that will not count

A voice that has no word

For speech

No hand to reach

No feet to step

No toe can tread

When the wisp of a trembling soul

Has not been lead

No angel guards the sleep

Of the wild and abandoned weeds

That lie at the forest edge

Not green but grey in deathlike sleep

And sound is hushed of life

With fallen leaves

Indeed.

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