I look at your faces,

And see your gentle smile,

The laughter,

I hear,

Tells of your innocence.

The compassion you share,

The way you ask about others,

A deep concern,

Edged in the contors,

Of your face.

You'll ask about a person,

And look at them,

As they talk,

Intently listening,

Despite the fact,

There are a million other,

Things you could be doing.

When I hear,

Your easy laughter,

Your conversations,

With a million questions.

I see love,

In the way you care,

Your genorisity,

Tells of a maturity,

Beyond your years....

Writen March.22.04 For a Creative Writing

Excerise...

Michelle Kidwell