A child

Your momma cries
over your babyhood being
here no more.

Where is my baby?
she says.

But
he was rushed to stop crying
he was rushed to stop snuggling
he was rushed to stop being small.

He loves you so-
he listened to you.

Feel the love!

En melankolisk dikt jag haft inom mig men inte skrivit ned förrän nu men som funnits inom mig. Jag har inga pretentioner om att vara en stjärna men ibland måste det bara ut.

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