"moms" poems
Making love,
a sweaty pit stop
between the sheets.
Politicians,
librarians,
directors,
janitors,
authors,
queens,
kings,
moms,
you,
me,
All guilty of this bittersweet act of sticky significance.
All willing to tangle our limbs every night.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
All of the dance moms are on their iPhones-
All I have is my notebook.
Pen scratching on paper, I am...
Old school.
An island of last century
In a sea of modern marvels of technology.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 2:20 PM UTC
A doctor's sorry for birth complication
A sea of CP cases in physiotherapy centre
Siblings, twins, triplets
All with defects
***
Advice of
***
Therapy,
Botox,
Vision,
Hearing,
Ocupational,
unheard names of unknown place...
!!!
Children I never thought existed
Parents I couldn't believe laughed
Joy in the eyes of kids with severe disability
Waiting for acceptance but yet unknown..
Blanked eyes of a mother
Whose 4 yr old child can die any day
Income reduced expenditure doubled
!!!
***
Yet
***
Optimism,
Joy,
Laughter,
Patience,
Hardwork,
Belief
multiplied many folds...
Coz they are the chosen one
God believed in them
And so God sent to them
The special gifts in
SPECIAL KIDS...
to make them
SPECIAL MOMs...
!!!
Sparkle In Wisdom
Sep 2018
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 9:48 AM UTC
We used to swing under the big willow tree
We lived 3 doors down from each other
We were princesses who fought dragons
We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time
Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were
Four years old was a cute age
Fast forward a bit
We went into elementary school innocent and young
Boys had cooties
Girls had cooties
Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face
We would always sit out field and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest
Life was good
Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting.
It scared me and I would have to go home
I would make you come with me
three doors down
Our moms didn’t laugh anymore
By Christmas break your parents were broken up and divorced
Eight years old was a confusing age
Junior high was mean.
Girls would rip you to shreds and then hang pieces of you on everyone’s lockers
Boys just wanted to make out
A whirlwind of uncontrolled hormones
We were the quiet ones
Always flew under the radar
Just trying to make it out alive
We found a little spot to eat lunch under the stairs where no one would go
We giggled and talked about boys who didn’t even know that we existed
I remember crying in the bathroom with you because people were brutal and we weren’t good enough
Our moms worried about us and how distant we were becoming
Thirteen years old was a sad age
Highschool is another story
You were put in the hospital for a month
I was left at school alone
I had to find more friends
I found most of them were fake
So I ate my lunch in a bathroom stall
Reading all the swear words that were carved in the wall
You were really sick and we grew apart
We were always close
We will always love each other
You tried to save me from myself
But I didn’t let you
Seventeen was an important age
Now we are at different colleges
I tried to **** myself while you were getting an A on your anatomy test
It’s sad
We don’t swing under the big willow tree or fight dragons anymore
Our moms hardly talk
You are a success
and I am a failure
We don’t really mesh
I miss you every day
I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you
We were princesses who lived three doors down, we saved the kingdom.
I love you
I’m sorry this has faded
Just like everything else
Nineteen years old is a dying age.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 4:23 AM UTC
I’m running in circles
I’ve got a scattered brain
Does this look normal?
Or have I gone insane?
I tired of the 9-5
Just look in my eyes
This job is draining me
Of my creativity
And happy vibes
I come home and I just wanna die
It doesn’t help that I live
In a lions den
Every morning I wake up
There’s a beautiful silence
And then
Noon comes around here comes
Big mama with a big ole frown
I thought I’d just chill on my day off
Rent is paid but it ain’t enough
I think I need some air
Maybe I should go to my moms house
And see if my family cares
Ha Ha
I needed that laugh
Look at me
I’ve begun to chaff
Anything to just break a smile
People swear I’m crude or ******* vile
Yet we got fools praising a dead man
A woman beater a native to gang land
I’m just trying to get my head straight
Don’t bother me now
No time to contemplate
Tummy’s hungry
And I’ve got an empty plate
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
**You're a sight for sore eyes
Been blinded by the light
Too many times**
Waves upon waves
Of color changing iconic notions
Fueled up emotions and sad faces
Shadows and shapes shining bright
At the height of the modern age
**A different way to accentuate the names we put inside our minds
Digital rhymes change the journey we travel**
When it unravels, we share, post and tag
A lag and we're lost in the dim lights of what we do next
Shifting through pages of endless faces, words and updates
**Times alienate the importance of touch
Yet the ignorance has a much higher impact
Than the influence of how to overreact**
Observe this society....
Is this how our lives were meant to be,
Staring at phones and computer screens?
**** this technology**, for taking you away from me
Taking moms from children and dads from jobs
Making every other relationship lose trust and feel wrong
**** this technology for what it does to me**
What it does to you, to society.
**** this technology, but don't you dare try to take my phone from me.**
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
I show you the stronger side coz i love you
Can't show you the weaker side
I can't tell you that I've been plotting my suicide
If i did who do you think between you and i would really die
I'm breathing like all of you but I'm dead inside
And its sad to say i can't tell you why
Ain't got no one to vent to
Grew up being told boys don't cry
Everytime we argue you say you don't love me
You say you don't need me
As if you don't know you're the reason im still living
I wrote a note to my moms saying im leaving
I hate to see her cry
So imma put it in the post hopin that she'll read it at a later time
To this painful life i see no purpose
Busy hurting others coz of my insecurities
Judging they flaws
Tyna forget my impurities
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 4:40 AM UTC
HERE IS WISHING EVERY INDIAN A
HAPPY DIWALI
On a dark no-moon day, comes Diwali.
Sing children joyfully, "aali re aali, Diwali aali".
Tiny lamps, make this dark no-moon night bright.
Indeed this is a beautiful, eye-pleasing sight.
Children, I know, crackers you love to burst.
But kindly a minute spare, n listen to me first.
Minutes few of fun, cause problems very big n grave.
People many, suffocated feel; n pollution we pave.
Frighten we, little babies n of course, dogs too.
In future, about our actions insane, we will rue.
Celebrate let us Diwali, with beautiful, colourful Rangolis n lights.
Share sweets special; homemade n healthy.
Helping moms to them make, even if you are wealthy.
Let's a portion small of these goodies, with the less fortunate share.
Prove let us to ourselves, that we really n truly care.
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
I grew up taking hits from my big brother,
I grew up on "boys' weekend" camping trips,
I grew up with my father calling me a princess but calling my brothers rock stars,
I grew up watching Boy Scout meetings from the back of the room,
I grew up on LEGOs and Hot Wheels and
I still remember the year my brothers got Nerf guns for Christmas
and I got a bracelet,
I remember being shot with foam bullets and having no way to fight back,
but at least I looked pretty.
I remember seeing my dad leave for work every morning
and wondering why my mom never did,
I remember wanting to be an astronaut, but my brother told me
moms have to stay home.
The phrase stop being a girl is branded into my mind
and I still curse myself every day
for the organs I was born with.
I remember the year my brothers went as zombies for Halloween
and I had to go as a princess,
I remember bringing a fake butcher's knife
because a princess is not scary.
I grew up on manhood meaning strength
and manhood meaning confidence
and manhood meaning respect
and I still wear dresses
and my dad still calls me a princess
but I'll be ****** if you tell me I'm not a man.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
To my Mom and Grandma, whom I love so dear,
It’s time to celebrate you on this great day of the year.
To have you both in my life, I truly am so blessed,
Some moms and grandmas might be great, but mine are actually the best.
…
There’s a reason why all our friends call my mother a saint,
She’ll take care of us through good times or bad with never a complaint.
Her sense of empathy astounds me, it’s a very special gift,
She’s always there to show support and give our spirits a lift.
She doesn’t take things for granted and shows amazing gratitude,
We all wish we had the ability to adopt her attitude.
Our road trips and vacations are memories I’ll always keep,
I still dream about them sometimes when I go to sleep.
…
Another blessing we all count is my amazing grandmother,
Her strength and good nature help bring us closer to each other.
She points us in a wholesome direction and gives us all her prayers,
So that when we get to Heaven we’ll have a row of reserved chairs.
I love going to visit grandma because she’ll take good care of me,
She’ll cook her delicious pasta and meatballs because that’s her specialty.
We’ll have a good laugh while we both sit and chat,
And she’ll always remind me if I’m ever being a brat.
…
There’s a good reason why Mother’s Day is a day for celebration,
Because my mother and my grandmother are a winning combination.
They really are two special gifts from the Big Man up above,
And from the bottom of my heart I can’t thank you enough for showering me with love.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
It's a ****** up world
A ****** up place
Everybody's judged by their ****** up face
****** up dreams
****** up life
A ****** up kid
With a ****** up knife
****** up moms
And ****** up dads
It's a ****** up a cop
With a ****** up badge
****** up job
With ****** up pay
And a ****** up boss
Is a ****** up pain...
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC
When I hear the words “marching band”,
I think of 4 am’s eating donuts on the bus,
Piled in big heaps to conserve warmth,
Not caring who we were laying on.
I think of lips on fire,
Sectionals that drag on and on in
The scorching sun, and staying
At attention for longer than you can bear.
I think of impossibly quick changes into uniforms,
Asking your friends to zip you up,
Band moms wiping off bibbers and shoes,
And when you’re all ready, realizing you didn’t put on your mic.
I think of falling on turf during
25 mph wind gusts, hearing the hail smash your instrument,
Not being able to feel your face,
But knowing you have to play on just the same.
I think of eating at weird times,
Breakfast at 4 am, lunch at 10 am, and supper at 10 pm,
But knowing that when you get you get a chance to eat,
The band dads have got you covered.
I think of laughing so hard on the bus
You’re crying, sobbing even, sprawled across
Your best friends, and you think you’ll never calm down
Enough to ever play your instrument again.
I think of the drum majors’ voices yelling
LEFT LEFT LEFT
Over and over again until the freshmen finally understand.
There’s always that one that never does.
I think of the moment of utter agony
Before they announce the last place in your class,
And you’re squeezing your eyes shut, praying
That at the very least, you won’t be last.
I think of that moment of utter relief
After you hear the last place in your class,
And it’s not you, and your prayers have been answered
That at the very least, you were not last.
I think of the last competition of the season,
When the seniors are bawling and it seems like
Your entire world is crashing down,
And nothing will ever be right again.
This poem could go on forever,
But finally: finally.
When I hear the words “marching band”,
I think of that triumphant moment right
As your show ends for the last time,
That last horns down,
And you know you’ve given it your all,
And no matter what your score is,
You feel in your heart that you have put everything
You have out there,
All the music, the drill, the blood, sweat and tears,
Out there on that football field.
And that moment, you can get no where else, but
Marching band.
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
She walks down this path so many Mothers have walked before her,
Crisp uniforms line the path..a heavy heart..Tears in her lap.
An American Flag snaps to attention as if to say we know your pain Mother, but we don’t.
Through this all, she carries on the pride and resolve despite an unthinkable loss.
The twenty-one gun salute resonates through every city in America
Reminding everyone to take a moment to honor this fallen son.
On the 6 O’clock news Taps plays on every television.
And we shake our head in disbelief.
An unbroken line of Patriots that passed before him,
Line the stairway to heaven to welcome their brother home.
And a banner hangs in Moms living room window..Displaying one Gold, two blue stars
“Lord please bring my boys home safely”, she prays
I hope you’ll think of some of the reasons why our brave sons & daughters make the ultimate sacrifice…..Here are just a few……..
The American Flag
Our military men and women
Freedom
Patriotism
America the Beautiful
Land of the Free
Home of the Brave
4th of July
Memorial Day
The Bald Eagle
Democracy
Free Enterprise
God Bless America!
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
I know girls who go through boys like they did toys on the playground
I know girls who pick at their skin and pull at their hair
I know girls who look so hard for love they give out their heart like it's extra change
I know girls who split their skins to stop the pain
I know girls who are so angry they are hateful, even mean
I know girls throw up in the bathroom after lunch, pretending no one heard them when they come out
I know girls with the universe in their eyes yet they can't see a star
I know girls who give themselves away to feel like someone cares
I know girls who hate their moms
I know girls who hate their dad
And I know girls that would rather die then be caught wearing a dress
I know girls who take too many pills, girls who party a little too hard
I know girls with strait A's since they were 6
I know girls who have panic attacks
There are girls with bones and girls with curves
Girls with hearts as cold as stone
But even with all the types
All the girls
We're all the same
Same love in our hearts
Same soul buried beneath layers of our skin
Truth is
We're all hurt
We all need each other
Girls need girls to get through what girls go through
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 8:40 PM UTC
1 THE KIDS
it’s a simple toy
that’s all they want
these gypsy kids
Plastic discards
cups and basins
consumers-people throw away
change into toys and inventions
in the hands of the gypsy kids
Simple inventions
unique in the change
a life of the imagination
free, unencumbered
just a place on the earth
the space they play in today
That’s all the kids want this moment
not confined walls of classrooms
2 THE PARENTS
Just like the kids
Just these dads and moms
who still revel in the infancy of the earth
And their women
who cook a meal
with what the wild might offer
who are content with what’s in the basket
And who can see into the sky
and see what‘s the weather coming
this season
And so when it is time to move, and where
3 GYPSY BEAUTY
Gypsy beauty
dance your body for me
swirl it like water
spin it like a top
fly it like a kite
O gypsy beauty
with your knowing smile
and your distant eyes
O you beauty
who wears the colors of the earth
twirl the elements for me
like the winds show what’s
behind the clouds
4 GYPSY SINGER
O gypsy singer
your voice in the air
like the voices that filled
the first days of the earth
that still echo down
the crags and valleys of the mind
O gypsy singer, sing the earth to peace
Sing hard hearts to gentleness
Raise that voice of yours
that voice pure
always so unencumbered
and bring back vision
to these tired spirits
that possess and ravage the world
sing these city-organized minds to calm,
sing all living beings into clarity
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 5:58 AM UTC
On a dark no-moon day, comes Diwali.
Sing children joyfully, "aali re aali, Diwali aali".
Tiny lamps, make this dark no-moon night bright.
Indeed this is a beautiful, eye-pleasing sight.
Children, I know, crackers you love to burst.
But kindly a minute spare, n listen to me first.
Minutes few of fun, cause problems very big n grave.
People many, suffocated feel; n pollution we pave.
Frighten we, little babies n of course, dogs too.
In future, about our actions insane, we will rue.
Celebrate let us Diwali, with beautiful, colourful Rangolis n lights.
Share sweets special; homemade n healthy.
Helping moms to them make, even if you are wealthy.
Let's a portion small of these goodies, with the less fortunate share.
Prove let us to ourselves, that we really n truly care.
Armin Dutia Motashaw
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
Scene one, Childhood
I never really learned to emotionally regulate,
Taking clues from Nickelodeon more than parents who set good examples,
Screaming fights and bruises and broken glass
Too much drinking, the smell of cigarettes
Moms broken bones
Make yourself small, make yourself gone
They may not notice you.
We played family a lot, curtaining blankets over a bunk bed to block the outside, and in family, I always took care of my babies.
Scene two, 18
I never really learned to emotionally regulate, taking clues from the friends around me more than parents who set any example.
A false father leaving, a mom losing her cash cow
The smell of Arbor Mist and ***** still makes me sick, mom’s incoherent fists still make contact in my sleep, I still wouldn’t have given her the keys.
We don’t play anymore. We’re mostly estranged. But we work. And in family, I always took care of my babies.
Scene three, 28
I’m trying to learn to emotionally regulate, the slideshow of couches and faces of therapists trying to set an example.
A son born to trauma, a marriage of consequence, I’m still learning to love myself, please, the sound of yelling still makes me sick,
I don’t know how to do this.
We are grown now, we are mostly put together. And now we live. But this is my family, and I will always take care of my babies
Sep 21, 2022
Sep 21, 2022 at 10:47 PM UTC
Pretty Little Cup Cake Store:
I walk through the door.
Somehow I think it will
Cheer me up.
A white iced-pink sprinkled cupcake
Will help me forget.
While unwrapping the trendy black and baby blue doted baking paper
Will bring back the past again.
But, even I know it is a ruse
A joke I play on myself.
You know the owners are some super hot soccer moms whose family invested in their latest project.
Those **** bakers with pretty white aprons
And size two retro-pink waitress uniforms;
Smiling and cooing at the lavender infused cake
That makes this treat go down so smooth.
A gluten-free icing with a garnish of kumquat.
This will land their pictures on the local news.
I am not a size two.
I will just as soon eat a nutty-buddy by Little Debbie
But, this trendy cupcake cafe, makes me feel I am one of those
Pretty ladies in the retro pink waitress uniform.
Kinda like a celebration, for a party of one.
I am not a hot pretty stick chick
I will buy four, five or six of those pretty cupcakes.
Pretending I am buying a hostess gift.
But, the truth.....
My husband forgot that we married
8 years ago this day.
I will pay too much for too little product: but the cake box is cute
I will sit in my car
Eating, till my teeth hurt.
I will rationalize; that I will cleanse tomorrow.
I will go home.
He will ask how I am, while staring at the TV.
"Shussh" he will say, "I'm trying to hear."
There is no use to remind him
He will play the tired "I'm-in-the-dog-house game."
I prefer stuffing four, five or six pretty little cupcakes
Into my mouth then listening
To his tired apologies, weak little lies and false promises of a planned
Surprise.
Instead; I will go to my room; then my private bath:
I will stick my fingers down my throat
And cough up my life.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
(you do you, baby boo, i know moms
who rather write poetry and spend five
bucks on their kids’ mouths lolol)
always the act of forgetting the people
behind the screen, when you blame me
like mingling with lanceheaded dreams
delivering pointless blows spelling it
like im incomplete unless i bring all of
myself to the table alone
& the room’s clean, and the kitchen’s clean
the birds sing and the sunlight’s cold and bright
seems like everything’s where it’s supposed
to be when you’re not around
now what a paradox that is
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 12:23 PM UTC
Freedom, you are the pride of Bengal
Freedom, you are the right of Bengali
Freedom, you are the light of life path
Freedom, you are built with the blood of Bengali!
Freedom, you are the smile of sad moms
Freedom, you are in the heart of Bengali
Freedom, you are the moon of the night
Freedom, you are the best success to Bengali!
Freedom, you are the reward to the ****** ocean
Freedom, you are the reverence to crores of Bengalis
Freedom, you are the reason for happiness to Bengalis
Freedom, you are the new life of Bengal!
Freedom, you are the dream of millions of martyrs
Freedom, you are the island of the endless ocean
Freedom, you are the long hair of the village girls
Freedom, you are so high like the blue sky!
Freedom, you stay in real action
Freedom, you stay in the spirit of Bengalis
Freedom, you stay with black and white
Freedom, you live in everyone's religion!
Freedom, you are my first priority
Freedom, you are my first torch
Freedom, you are my dignity
Freedom, freedom, I'll never do injustice to you!
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 1:22 PM UTC
oh you must be emo
i mean the way your music screams and screeches
oh you must be a preppy little *****
i mean the way you one direction blares
oh you must be old too
i mean the way you prehistoric music plays
oh you must be a jesus freak
i mean the way your gospel music is sung
well does music really define you
i mean i knew a person
she was happy
she was a tomboy
she was young
you knew her to be a christian yes
but her music was a variety
you'd think her crazy
you'd call her music taste bi polar
oh well you must hate all gay people
i mean you go to church on sundays
oh well you know t'v is in color right
i mean the stuff you watch doesn't even have sound or words
oh well you must be happy never thought about depression huh
i mean your hair is blonde clothes are pink and you're head cheerleader
oh well you must only own long sleeves and take anti depressants
i mean you are always so quiet and never stand up for your self
but that girl who goes to church
she doesn't feel accepted at church because shes gay
but that girl who watches black and white t.v.
it was her moms favorite movie
but that pretty blonde cheerleader
her dads a drunk and beats her and her mom
but that girl painted black
shes really nice once you get to know her
if only you knew her secret
if only you knew her mother
if only you lifted up her skirt and looked at her thighs
if only you got to know her
never let a persons music or look describe them
why don't you go try to talk to them
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
You made me
And that idea baffles me all the time
Because you didn't make me at all.
Well it's arguable that your absence made some of me
But there's millions of people who aren't in my life too.
Has my absence made some of you?
The first time I was with you,
Half of me was swimming to my moms egg,
When we were together for the second time
I noticed I had built you up
I only knew the biology of our connection
It made me realize how disconnected we were.
We weren't that tall and still aren't.
Without you I am nothing
But without you I've been many things.
I'll meet you again sometime.
There's still time to grow.
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 2:07 AM UTC
The final words deeply
Rooted well spirited from top
To the wishing well bottom
She writes-- on-- the-- top-line
Real flower takes action
The Spring Mom affection
Dark- Shades She's the brightest
Star- Poppy make it snappy
Fire red Floppy disk
Movie flick favorite flower
Take a risk perfect pick
Your heart sunglasses got baked
With Moms baking flour
She couldn't see the sun
Light years away
Words sound alike look at the what!
blue skies just pray we are rooted
like a gifted flower
That never dies
Star Eyes** enter
The flowers frame mirror
"Sunflower Face"
* * *
Words sprout like
"Mr. and Misses"
The ceremony
Oh! Honey what's your point.....
Red so vibrant laughing Loretta
Crying operetta baby birth flower
Rudolph running nose red
Homesick cough water spell
chamomile flower bed
Light up Holiday wed
"Poinsettia" she's tough
Bloom- make room
Show Biz flower "Cafe Vienna"
Curtain call sprinkle me
Sunflower voice heal me
Daisies lion- roar- free
The fresh-cut dandelion
Sunflower hats bow
"Kentucky Derby" I reckon
Flower words I beg your pardon
Did I ever promise you the rose garden?
Last curtain call divine sunflower
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 1:04 PM UTC
If I should have a son,
Instead of mom, he's gonna call me Support
That way he knows, no matter what happens, I'll be there to hold open the heavy doors.
And I'm gonna paint the solar systems on the fronts of his game controllers
So he has to learn the entire universe before he can say "I'll school you in that!"
And he's gonna learn that this life will bury you
Deep
Underground
Wait for you to claw your way out just to throw dirt in your eyes
But not being able to see which way is up is the only way to remind your pupils how much they enjoy the beauty of this earth
And there is hurt here, that cannot be fixed by alcohol or drugs
So when he realizes Superman isn't coming, I'll make sire he doesn't have to wear the cape all by himself
"And sweetie" I'll tell him, "dont let your head get so big"
I know that trick, I've seen it a million times,
you're just looking to impress that pretty girl on the cheer squad who picks on other kids to adjust her own self worth
Or better yet, date the girls getting picked on, then dump her to adjust YOUR self worth.
But I know he will anyways
So I'll always keep an extra supply of "I taught you betters" and "Treat girls rights"
Even though all boys learn that at a young age...
Okay, most boys don't,
But that's what moms are for
They'll teach you to be amazing husbands if you let them.
When he opens his hands to catch, and drops the ball
When the girl he likes says no to going on that date with him
when it feels like the world is crashing in
Those are the days he has all the more reason to say thank you,
because there is nothing more beautiful than the way the sun refuses to stop kissing the horizon, no matter how many hours it must spend spinning away.
And yes, on a scale of one to greatest, moms pretty much know it all
But I want him to know that this world will throw curveballs that I can't see
And he can't be afraid to put on his mitt and catch it himself
"And sweetie" I'll tell him
Remember your momma is a queen, and your poppa is a king
and you are the boy with big eyes and a willing heart who never stops trying
Your aren't big yet, but don't stop growing
And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip peer pressure and sin under your door and give you hand outs on street corners of druggies and defeat.
you tell them
that they really outta meet
Your Mother
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
Dress up days
FOR KIDS
I don't mean the times
They dressed up for Church
Or for special holidays
But the times they found
A long dress in their moms closet,
And their moms high heel shoes
Oh and the hats they found
In a hat box in the closet.
Please mom, please....
They were in seventh Heaven...
And the special box
In a best friends basement,
Filled with formals
And a box of high heels.
That insured them a great
Play day...
I grew up in
Dress up days
My girls grew up in
Dress up days
But this day and age
It seems there are
Dress up days
Filled with Princesses
Bought at Target
Or on Amazon.
Stealing the creative ability of a child.
They are expensive, beautiful
And they sparkle
I'm sure the little girls
Probably get more excited
Over Princess dresses
That sparkle
Then the ones that hang
Over their shoulders
And drag on the ground.
Either way, they can still
Have fun while singing
"I'm so fancy"
By Judy
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 5:52 AM UTC