“Good morning sunshine,”
One mother sings
“Who knows what this sweet day will bring”
She snuggles you swiftly
How she does with such care
Blissfully unknowing
Foreign to the idea that in hours-worth time you will no longer be there
She fixes you breakfast, eggs sunny-side up
She pours you a sugary creme in your favorite pink cup
She paints a slice of bread with cherry-red jam,
“Perhaps this will do for your snack today, my little lamb.”
She sweeps through your hair and sews it intricately into a bow
She nestles you neatly in your lilac overthrow
Her fingers interlock with yours, as she guides you to the door
“You are all ready for school,” she sings in sweet whispers
Unbeknownst to the fact that your departure would be forever and more
Some hours later, one mother would fall to her knees,
Abandoning the phone which wailed and wept
And bellowed and brawled a bitter lullaby
It was her daughter, the operator cried, her daughter who fell victim to the shamefully-motivated seize
It was a loss which she could not fathom,
A grave theft of shining bright light
Her little lamb would no longer return
The little lamb that she would nestle oh so tight
Come evening, one mother would pick herself up off the ground
Tip-toeing sloppily to the room in which her daughter could no longer be found
She sinks into the paint-stained carpet, where she would interlock her fingers with a premature handprint
“Goodnight sunshine,”
One mother weeps
“Who knows what this bitter day will bring,”
“I will forever snuggle you swiftly, how I do with such care,”
Incapable of fathoming the fact that you are no longer there
