Missing

I used to know a little girl. Her name, was my name...her face, was my face only younger, prettier, her eyes were my eyes, only greener, her hair was my hair, only reddish and a bit curled, I was less grey back then...
I used to play games with her, have long talks with her...walk laugh and sing with her...I used to come out with her on rainy days and play between and inside puddles until we fell laughing on the wet sidewalk...
I used to read her bedtime stories and lie beside her when she couldn't sleep. We made up our own stories, you know? About princesses and princes, and castles, and dragons...
I used to show her the world around us, the streets, parks, homes, birds, animals and people. She was lovely and held on tight to my hand...
I used to see her everyday, in the mirror, staring at me through my eyes....now she's gone, she's missing, and her face is on the milk carton and newpapers...if you find her....bring her back, she's my will, my love, my happiness, my child...

Gaia