If one day I happen to lose my way,
I ponder where to begin my search for me,
To find the face in the mirror,
Which now is a stranger to see.

But a start I must make, somewhere,
What better place than childhood’s lair.
So I’ll go to little Sarah, with her drawing sheets,
Her sketch pens, and creative feats.

“Draw my face,” I’ll gently plead,
No one else could meet this need.

Or perhaps to that Sarah, wandering free,
Through village lanes with friends in glee,
Maybe, in her wanderings, she’ll find me.

Or to the Sarah lost in books, I’ll go,
Seeking answers or questions new to know.
She had the courage to uncover all,
In her world, no quest too small.

Or maybe to that Sarah, who roamed,
From one corner of the country to another, her heart’s home.
With a backpack, she traveled afar,
With fresh eyes, under every star.

Perhaps, with those new eyes, she'll find the old me,
I know, I trust, they’ll bring me back, you see.
All these Sarahs will surely find me,
And never let me lose myself completely.

© Sarah✨️