Gloria

"I'm sad," her eyes said.
I haven't a bed
I haven't some food
I haven't a shoulder
of someone older
I haven't a tear.
What a strange child you are
Gloria dear.

"I'm sad," I said,
You haven't a friend
This I can mend, I swear.
Sit on my lap,
my arms close the gap
and my voice sings
"Gloria" in your ear.