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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #1535613 |
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Poor Children
I wonder just how neglected You tinny ones are Are you truly rejected Left wishing on a star Look at your home Doesn’t your mom own a broom Do you feel alone Is your life filled with doom Does your mom hold you tight Does she play with you Or help them say their prayers at night Do you think her love is true Is her heart as cold As the house where you live Is she too bold What more can Mom give These are the silent things I feel other say The words always sting I do help them pray I hold them tight And love them too They sleep at night Knowing my love is true I do own a broom Yet my house is a mess I sometimes feel the groom And my children’s stress I do it alone But I feel that I fail I hope you are strong And your heart to take sail If they would look in Would they think that you are well Would they see my love within Or think you’re in hell I do the best I can Loving you and holding you tight By you side I stand Both day and every night
© Copyright 2009 Ida_Matilda_Wright (UN: writing_life at Writing.Com).
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