She packed her bag,
with childhood memories,
things that she grew out of
way too fast,
dolls and childrens books,
were exchanged for
flirting and her looks,
her parents dont understand,
thats what she says,
but she wont even try,
to help them understand,
why at night she crys,
the golden blonde hair,
that once was pulled back in a bow,
now hangs dirtily about her face,
something her parents do not know,
she took a Midnight Flight,
after her parents went to sleep,
her father doesnt talk much,
all her mother does is weep,
but they know in their heart of hearts,
that their little girl will come home,
the Midnight Flight will end,
and the little girl wont be alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem