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How people laughed at him
Old vagrant wearing one sock
As he begged on the street
But no one knew him well

He could have been eighty
Or he could have been older
Most people walked on by
Some gave him loose change

Then came the day he died
Found in the frozen streets
He never had a place to sleep
He was only skin and bones

He would give away all his money
To charity for disabled soldiers
Never took a penny for himself
He was an Angel on the streets
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
You're walking out, I try not to think so negatively but with all the things going on, I feel I have to be cautious, so I watch.

*Lucky for me I can look out my windows and see you standing there, I hope its a comfort for you to know I'm here and always will be.


From your 1st step, to your 1st words and even your 1st day home from the hospital in your preemies outfit I've watched, and sometimes held my breath fearful to let you go....

Now 14 years have past..  
(We have many more to come).

Today I sat looking out my window on my bed, watching you,
I remember how many times I held your little hands in mines and often on those occasion I'd have to reluctantly let you go, allow you to grow and let you do it all on your own.


The 1st time you fell off your bike, skinned your knee's from your roller blades, and  fell off a swing, I helped you up yet you've always made sure I'd let go of your hand so you could try again...

Reluctantly I'd let go, watchful even afraid at times but watching you today waiting for your bus to take you to summer school, I see the lesson's I've taught you implemented in all you do.

As you look both ways before crossing the street,  from our home to get on your bus,

I become nostalgic...

Thinking back to your 1st day of school, a single tear streams down my cheek, while Reluctantly;

you're standing next to me, asking when will the bus come, *


"how long is 10 minutes"  

and the look in your beautiful brown eyes once you have to get on,
you say ma can you come with me please...

Reluctantly once
more I say no, and have to let go of your hand...

You smile that lovely bright pretty smile and say;

"It's OK ma I will see you here when I get off the bus right?"

I just nod too choked up to voice myself.
Starr,
you've grown onto a wonderful young lady & as I've watched your 1st crush and heart breaks.

*I thank you for allowing me to comfort you plus for you


holding my hand*  

* through these 14 years.

Your strong, beautiful, smart, funny, and have shown me I sometimes need to let go more often.

*
You might be ready, but mommy's not...

Not just yet,

so holding my hand-- a minute longer or bit more than you have to, is greatly appreciated,  remember if and when you need me, I'll be here ...

Whenever those times come for you do it all on your own,
I'm sure you're completely capable,
but I'll still be right here for you...


  And I'll watch!

*Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
         K.A.C.L.N ©
     All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
To my 4th child, you've taught me so much and through your eyes I see the world's vibrancy. Thanks for this journey & adventures, I'm sure there is so !much more to see and learn. Mommy loves u O.Starr L.Nelson, you're a great teacher!
The sun is rising
Heat is arriving
Birds start chirpping
  Good day  As
   A  bit of light appears
From the sky above
     Hevan
       I call to you
I always knew I looked like her:
same eyes, smile, ****** expressions,
and even our glasses and smiles.
I always knew that my curls and her
        straight hair separated us.
I always knew that we liked the same things,
disliked the same things.
I always knew our hands wrote the
        same.
I always knew that her fear of
        something
and my love for that thing
made us unique,
but today I learned something new.
We talk the same.
I may swear more,
but I'm not really sure.
I've heard her swear once when she
        was mad,
and every other time,
she was reading a foul line.
But when we're happy,
we have the same tone,
the same speed,
the same words.
When we're sad,
you can hear it in our voices,
see it in our eyes,
notice it in our slouching spines.
And when we're proud of others,
we let them know.
Oh, over and over again,
we let them know.
I'm proud to say I'm like her,
and maybe not seeing her for a year,
I'll be okay.
Oh how fools can pity me
For they can not know
Of into which sadness I flee
Of those dark shadows I go

If they dare, sought me out
They know not what they find
From the terror of midnights' shout
Buried forever within insanitys' mind

I will take to the grave my sorrow
Even in Death I am never free
Condemned to rot in somewhere hollow
Where the fools can pity me
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
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