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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342386" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Mother's Collection: Tissues, Bones, And Blood (Second)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her second born </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>“Mother You Have A Baby Boy'<br>Seven pound of flesh lay beneath <br>her throbbing heart, teardrops<br>rained down on his light brown hair, <br>flowing past matching eyes, and <br>forming a salty pool in<br>the crease of his neck.<br>“Put him back in his warm home, only his <br>brother and me live in that cemetary room! <br>I swallowed and digested hope and <br>wrapped my tissues, bones, and blood<br>in tenderness and nursed the fruit of my womb. <br>Oh how delightful watching him suckle-feed warm <br>milk as my heartbeat lulled him to sleep! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Big Mike” your childhood holds many memorable moments<br>and Klutziness is one: <br>“Look mommy, I ripped my pants…I was chasing my friend<br> down the street'<br>“Look mommy, I bruised my knee…I was running from a bee”<br>“Look mommy, the dog was hungry and I was meat”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Son, it seems like yesterday when I held you in my arms, <br>rocked you to sleep, and not knowing what the future held for us three! <br>But, look at you now, with all varied drumbeats in your ear, <br>you chose to ignore most, instead marching by your own, <br>even dad would say, “he walks right on the edge”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Big Mike, children can’t choose their parents, but <br>I'm delighted you appreciate the choice I made.<br>You’re a man now and this is your special day...<br>two scores and eight- heck who’s keeping score, <br>enjoy your special day! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You’re like a bottle of vintage wine and I the wine maker. <br>Now my dear you’re aged...Go! Soar in the distance sky.<br>Mommy's love clinging to your wings and the winds whispering 'son I love you! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>11/29/10 edited.comments maynot correspond to the original version</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Happy Birthday, Son</div><div style="margin:10px 0">September 25,2006</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Almedia+Knight+Oliver">Almedia Knight Oliver</a><div class=q>
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“Mother You Have A Baby Boy'
Seven pound of flesh lay beneath 
her throbbing heart, teardrops
rained down on his light brown hair, 
flowing past matching eyes, and 
forming a salty pool in
the crease of his neck.
“Put him ba..."></div>
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