My, my, little child,
look at how you’ve grown.
Your grandmother’s eyes
and your daddy’s smile
Wit and smarts like your mama,
but where’d you get that dark soul,
the one that haunts your dreams
and even in reality
you’re struggling to get away from it.
Where’d you find the will to get on
and how do you move to the beat of your own drum
when all the world wants to make you theirs,
Little pieces of your past
still etched into your porcelain skin,
girl, how’d you get out of the messes
you always found yourself in?
By building on the remnants
of a life that once was, she said.