She wants to see her mom and dad.
“Not today,” the daughter replies.
So she sits in a blue cloud of sad.
“No one here will take me home.”
Her expectations always dashed.
“Maybe next week,” the daughter consoles.
But next week is never cashed.
“I need to go home soon.”
“I don’t remember pa’s face.”
“Me neither,” the daughter fibs.
She has forgotten he left the living race.
“What about next Saturday?”
“Could you take me next week?”
“Depends on the day,” the daughter lies.
She is unaware of the deceit.
She wants to go home in the worst way.
To see her parents and life long ago.
She wants to be with them.
But she doesn’t know…
That “home” and family are many years gone.
Her mind tells her it’s within a hand’s grasp.
Home still exists, it’s waiting for her
If only someone would take her to the past.
Home is in the heart and mind.
Forever to dance and sing.
“You will be there one day,” daughter affirms.
Riding on an angel’s wing.