Poets

2 Comments

  • Mama
    Mama, I think in only pictures
    And fight for every word.
    I babble songs and stories
    and dream I will be heard.
    My little toys I line up
    in a big parade.
    I spin and dance to music,
    silent in a way.
    Mama, hold me close
    in your heart if not your arms.
    I can not bare your touch,
    but I do so love your charms.
    Papa, don’t be sad for me,
    I believe I will be fine.
    God he has his hand on me
    and keeps it there all the time.

    by
    Robert’s Mom
    1997
    A. Foster
    BooksbyAFoster.com
    Never give up!

  • I wrote this when I was younger. My son had just been diagnosed. That took six months of waiting for a special doctor to take two minutes and look at my son. I knew way before that. Mom always knows even if we do not want to admit that we know.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *