Unfinished Song - Natassa Bofiliou

Childhood

haunted by a dream that never rhymes

a half sung song.

Mothers serving tea, daughters serving lies.

Then, came boys.

Lifetime

safely kept in father' s trophy case

a half lived life.

Reading poems and plays, spending time in grace.

Then, came truth.

I was meant to be sung by someone

other than myself

I touch the lips of passing strangers.

Now I’m sung on streets

not a soul completes

this unfinished song.

Night-time

guided by voices in my head

I found my way

wondering round for years

sheding silent tears.

Then, came he.