I remember as a school girl
Writing poems for my friends
It seemed I was happiest
With my paper and pen
I got it from my Mama
I loved the poems she'd write
She never had them published
Thou she'd work into the night
When I'm sad or a little down
I can always write my best
My feelings jotted on paper
So easily expressed
Pain woven into words
Others peeking inside my heart
Hoping readers cannot see
My world crumbling all apart
I write of little children
The abused babies of the world
I wish I could bring happiness
To every crying boy or girl
I write for the homeless
Living in a box on the street
Hiding from the secret stares
His eyes mirror his defeat
I write for the Mother
Who can't feed her family
The Daddy who has left them
Fear is all they can see
I write for the soldiers
Of the red, white and blue
And to the person reading this
I also write for you
I write for my Saviour
Who always stands by my side
He shed His blood for us all
For you and I He died
I write because it helps me
To unload a burden time to time
I can lay my heart on a table
In my own words an rhyme...
(C) Linda Hill 2011
Connie
Not all Dad's run away, I went to court over 40 times to fight too see my child. Most dads are of similar ilk, but now i see why they give up. Women can ignore the law with impunity.
On here I found tip top support, until she had my writing banned at a contact hearing, which was really poetry on trial. One more poem and I'd go to Gaol!
Newfie Hugs, Rose
GREAT POEM, GREAT LADY !!
(I know what you mean about writing best when down. Oddly enough, that is when I'm best at light. Funny side to anything, right? Helps so much to turn the tragedy mask over.)
Thank you for sharing this.
For being you!
xOx Phyllis xOx
Chip Bergeron
In Christs Love
Michelle~
Anna
fee
Blessings,
Christine
GOD BLESS YOU
Tony
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Texas, Karen Lynn. :D
It will be interesting to see who, if anyone, accepts your challenge.
Thanks Dick
Write On.
Christine