You were born on a August day,
you were perfect in each and every way.
Ten little finger's, ten little toe's,
and the cutest little button nose.
Big, beautiful hazel eye's,
now when I see them,
they make me cry.
I see your picture all over the new's,
hard to believe,
you've been missing since June.
My heart is breaking thinking of you out there,
you should be home,
playing with your hair.
I hope that you are found alive,
but I know,
that hope is a lie.
May we all just stop and think,
about little Caylee Marie,
forever in purple and pink.
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Comments about this poem (Caylee Marie by Patricia Couvion )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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