She's not at the kitchen table
She's not sleeping in her bed.
I remember I had a teenager but I haven't seen her since June.
There's evidence she's been at home and I hope she comes again soon.
A pile of dirty clothes lay tossed aside as if she has no time
Yet somehow she is getting up and making herself look fine.
An empty bowl of cereal proves the girl will not starve.
Apprently, she has a life to live and legacy to carve.
And then one day I catch a glimpse and scream, "Hey! Are you my daughter?
Are they feeding you well? Do you get enough sleep? Are you drinking enough water?"
She wisely ignores me, continues to march and pretends that I'm not there.