En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Jane Jenkins

Jane Jenkins was just barely ten
When her father's beatings had begun

The year was nineteen twenty nine
As they waited together in the free bread line

Her little face wore such sweet repose
Her cheeks the color of the old fashioned rose

That grew on the trellis by the house on the hill
Where the voice of her mother was stoic and still

He'd always worn a Black Irish frown
Since the day he arrived from Dublin Town,

With the immigrant groups who then here came
To dodge it's poverty and shame

It had never really been that bad
Before that Tuesday that the stock market crashed

He drove a truck, a Mack, I think
But had propensity to drink

And sometimes days would turn to weeks
He'd not come home and they lived on the cheap

And all those times that he was stealth
He kept his paycheck to himself

So itty bitty tiny Jane
With her mother, would beg to gain

A penny here or a nickel there
Picking cotton until their hands were rare

So she'd grown accustomed to those times
Her stomach was more empty than yours or mine

But the one thing that was sorely marred
Was her wee small heart with its thickened scars

And she safeguarded it under lock and key
Putting on a face of merry glee

And attended school wearing flower sacks
In place of the fabric that her mother lacked

And then one day her life all changed
She dared to dream a dream to frame

He'd left for good with his Black Irish frown
She stomped his memory in the cold hard ground

Written by Sara Fielder © 2012

poem by Sara Fielder
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Saturday Morning 1961

Jane climbed off
the Saturday bus to town

her black hair ruffled
by the wind

her eyes
looking over at you

her mother close by
you standing by the wall

having climbed from the bus
a few moments before

your mother stood
and spoke to others

you watched as Jane buttoned up
her coat against the winter cold

her fingers turning blue
then she moved over to you

and said
I saw you by the water tower last night

as we drove by
my father visiting

a parishioner in the village
I was watching the sun

moving beyond the Downs
you said

like some giant moving
away to sleep

she smiled
and surreptitiously

she touched your hand
her mother's head

looking the other way
talking to your mother

of her husband's work
of church or of weather

or whatever
you gazed at Jane's eyes

the turn of head
the smile on lips

the way her hands touched
oh to be with her

away from others
to talk and walk

and capture each moment
with her closeness

but then her mother
moved away to shop

and Jane followed
just behind

and as she walked away
you painted her figure

and beauty
in your mind.

poem by Terry Collett
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Salvation Jane

One chain to the mountain
Two feet in the chain
Three fires approaching
Four hours away
A sol invictus the invicible sun
The night is almost come
Five times the assassin
Six species destroyed
Seven valleys are numbered
Eight years till they're gone
Just when I thought
I'd die on this rock
I see a face I know
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Nine times the protector
Ten years and a day
Eleventh hour we're facing
Twelve o'clock in the sun
Oh mother nature
We're trying to kill you
Such greedy fools
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Thirteen grand designs
Fourteen you're walking the wire
Fifteen is when you're lonely
Sixteen is a long way there
Seventeen is a whisper
Eighteen is a whirl
Nineteen is a mother
Twenty minutes ago
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
Wild wild flower of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power of love
Salvation Jane
You've got the power to change
You're such an easy prey
Salvation
Salvation
Salvation
Submitted by Michael Hack

song performed by by INXS
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Just Drove By

I always go the other way
But my car drove me down today
To a little house on the older side of town
Back when things were never hard
I used to play there in that yard
And I just drove by to see if things had changed
Cokes were just a nickel then
And across the street at the five and ten
A lot of things were cheap and square and strange
And the life we had might have been
But it was one we loved believing in
And I just drove by to see if things had changed
I wondered now
If love is still the way it was back then
I need to know
That life is still a place worth living in
There it is, just like it was
A house where there was always love
I just drove by to see if things had changed
In a world thats seen its better days
Its good to know some things remain
The same, though standing still is not times way
Take to heart while in its spring
That love is just a fragile thing
I just drove by to see if things had changed

song performed by by Wynonna Judd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Day Jane Fainted

Jane fainted in the town
by the coach
on Saturday morning
and her mother

and other women
were around her
and you stood
a little way away

wondering what
had happened to her
I think it must be
that time of the month

you heard one woman say
maybe
her mother said
but she's not usually

like this
she added
will she be all right?
you asked

bending down
next to one
of the women
who had gathered

her mother looked at you
and said
yes it happens
at certain times

of the month
oh right
you said
none the wiser

gazing at Jane
at her dark hair
her eyes closed
her features

white and sweaty
best give her some air
her mother said
and you all stood up

and her mother
fanned her
with her hat
then after a minute or so

Jane opened her eyes
and said
what happened?
I went all funny

and everything went white
you fainted
her mother said
waving the hat

in front of Jane's face
I want to get up
Jane said
and so you

and her mother
helped her
to her feet
and she leaned

against the wall
of the bank
and looked around
she'll be all right now

a woman said
it happens
another said
after a few minutes

they went off
to the shops
leaving you
and your mother

and Jane
and her mother
standing by the coach
I'll be all right now

Jane said
ok
her mother said
and you all walked

along the street
to the shops
Jane walking behind
with you

her hand stealthily
reaching down
for yours and giving it
a little squeeze

then releasing it again
looking up at the sky
which had become dark
threatening rain.

poem by Terry Collett
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Doctors

I waited in the lobby as the television blared
While my mother was in surgery
Me wondering how she fared
Where the old ones in their wheelchairs
Pushed by strangers came and went
Wearing dressing gowns of cotton
With their dignity a-vent
And the doctors came to treat them
In their valuable time
Looking down upon these people
Without SEEING them, like mine
With their faces hid by masks
So you won’t know that they don’t care
Wearing paper shoes and paper hats
Such that you’d never dare
To waste their time by asking questions
And risk seeming like a fool
Just by virtue of the fact that they’ve
Had twenty years of school
But the sickly in their wheelchairs
Keep on coming back for more
Hoping they will beat Grim Reaper
As he bangs on deaths dark door
And the doctors with their scissors
And their scalpels cutting neat
Say “To hell with bedside manner
You are just a piece of meat”

Written by Sara Fielder © 2012

poem by Sara Fielder
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Growing Up Hard

Counting pennies, to buy a loaf of bread
More often than not, hungry going to bed
Us carrying mothers sewing machine, every thirty days
Three blocks to the pawn shop, till the welfare check pays
Got the welfare check, would get the sewing machine out
We'd pawn it again next month, without a doubt
Living on commodities, free peanut butter and cheese
Going to school without a coat we'd always freeze
We never had many nice clothes to wear
Mother would mend them when they began to tear
Having meat for dinner was a real rare thing
Breakfast and supper, beans and rice we were eating
We wore our shoes until they fell apart
Mother could only buy one of us a pair, at the mart
Quiet often we were left all by ourselves
While mother worked or went out for cocktails
The days weren't so bad alone, we were in school
But young and left alone at night was really cruel
Feeling so alone, just us three
Please stay home tonight mama, we'd plea
Times were hard when I was a child
This poem I've written, is putting it mild

poem by Donna Nimmo
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The Mother's Story! ! ! ! ! !

Once a mother
went to the school
of her son
who made her fool
for she loved him
and lived for him
he was to her
everything from sun to flower

all the classmates
came to greet
the mother of the boy
and giggled and laughed
for the mother had only an eye
and her face was cartoon like

in the evening
when the boy reddening
came home angrily
and chided his mum
that never again come to school
or else I will quit my going to school
Mother was sad
and agreed every word
and from that day
her feet never touched
the grounds of her son's

the son grew up
but the scar never healed
it hurt him
to have a mother-one eyed
he want to go
far off to shake off
the shame of life
to have a mother without eye

he went away
to a place far off
got a job
and a wife and a kid and laugh
once the mother
wished to see
the little infant
her milking tottler
she planned to visit
and visit did she
to be turned away
by the son
rudily stung and stray

days and months
life rolled away
and the days of mother
gathered no more further
the son was soon sent a word
by the neighbours attending the mad
by the time the son arrived
the mother' s body was engraved
and there she lay the sweet woman
in peace of heavens and ease of mind

a word or two and the son was handed
a letter from the dead mum lastily penned
he tore it open as he was on his way
back to his home as nothing did it worry
to say goodbye to things he have not cared
the letter carried a message
the mother has written in all her life
to the babe of her womb
who all life and flesh did her tomb
' dear son, the eyes of yours
are the eyes of mine
when in sunshine
of my youth did you meet
an accident and lost the sight
I gave you my looks
to cheer up your looks
so that the world outside
dont say things bad and blind
not you be and handsome find
though dead I see through you
you are my eyes
and I see the world
through you and your eyes......'

that was the story of the one-eyed mother
who weighed upon the sobbing future
of the selfish creature

poem by Lalitha Iyer
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Mother, Father

Mother, father please explain to me
Why a world so full of mystery
A place so bitter and still so sweet
So beautiful and yet so full of sad, sad...
Mother, father please explain to me
Why forests march to desert speed
While snowcapped mountains melt away
What do we tell our babies, when do we say, oh
Mother, father please explain to me
How a man who rocks his child to sleep
Pulls the trigger on his brothers heart
He digs a hole right to the middle of this storm of hatred
Mother, father please explain to me
How it could be so this world has come to be
A precious balance in between
Such cruelty and such kindness please
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
Unequaled in her blessings, oh, I see
Unbridled hatred so extreme, please tell me
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be so
Twisted between time and dreams
Oh, mother, father please explain to me
Oh, whats all this talk about?
All this talk about it
Spinning down, down, down, down, down
All this talk about
Endless words without
Nothings done
Mother, father do you know
Why one mans belly overflows
Another sleeps in hungers bed
Oh, we trade our world for a piece of bread
Oh mother, father please explain to me
How this rare worlds come to be
A place so full of color yet overflowing
Always in black and white
Drowning in the waters of our...
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
While still blessed in all the things we see
Such a sad, sad home for you and me
Come out, and hold,
Come on out you
Come on out you
Come and save yourself
Come on out you
Come on were taking the water
Were taken the water
Were taken the water
But you know
We got the freedom
We got the freedom
Theres no God above
And no hell below
Oh, its here with us
Its up to us
To keep afloat
How this sweet world has come to be
Oh to keep afloat
Mother, father please explain to me
How this rare world has come to be
Oh, let the blue planet
Let the blue planet
Mother, father please explain to me
Mother, father please explain

song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High School Sweetheart

I surprised myself by googling his name
What a shame I thought,
what a shame
Life was bliss and why would I?
What did I have to gain?
I had no reason at all to be interested
in where he was
or how his life had turned out
But wonder got the better me
So there I was and suddenly
There he was.
The letters of his name sitting side by side
as if he had been there all along
And they laughed at me
This is no small miracle
It's heaven sent
A foolish lie I told myself
before I went to bed
So I lay there
starting to remember the outline of his face
He was just a boy back then
A kid, that long ago made my heart skip beats
in the moonlight as his lips pressed mine
And he would lay his arm around my shoulder
And I would will the clock to stop time
before we would have to say goodnight
I never really knew him
like I wanted to
But, he was mine
Even when he left we were tied together
like immortals
I just knew I'd never feel that way again
But young love is always just a foggy dream
A lovely pleasant piece of fiction
And now, with one mouse click
he's gone again

Written by Sara Fielder © 2011

poem by Sara Fielder
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My Mother Had A Brother

My mother had a brother
They say that I was born on the day that he died
Someone to cling to, she said
When all the noises and the shame came calling
My mother had a brother
I thought I knew them all, I thought I knew
But she lied
I said, Show me his face again, tell me again why he died
She said he couldn't wait for the things that I've seen
She said he wasn't strong enough, he never dared to dream a life like mine
My mother had a brother
Over-sensitive and kind
Seems it all became too much for him..
It seems he took his own life
Mum, I can't imagine the joy and pain in equal measure
Tears in the dirt, and all over your newborn treasure
I guess he had to wait until my momma had me
I guess he couldn't wait another moment to be free
In endless sky..
But mama will you tell him from your boy
The times they changed
I guess the world was getting warmer
And we got stronger
Mother will you tell him about my joy
I live each day for him
The sun came out, yeah, and I'm just breathing it in
(breathing)
My mother had a brother
Same desire, different time
Seems the empty spaces tortured him
Until he took his own life
I don't know why I waited so long for love
I just don't know what I was thinking of..
All that wasted time
But mama will you tell him from your boy
The times they changed
I guess the world was getting warmer
While we got stronger
Mother will you tell him about my joy
I live each day with him
Your son came out, yeah,
And I'm still breathing it in
And I swear now that freedom is here
I'm gonna taste it all for you boy
I'm bad to the bone, I'm just a little torn
I'm making so much love
So those of us who have nothing to fear
We've got to make damn sure that it was worth it
I'm bad to the bone, I'm just a little stoned
I'm making so much love
I was a prisoner, but he saved me
Broke into my dreams and said, Who cares?
I was a prisoner, so disgrace me
I'm glad to be home
And I don't believe they care.

song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Jane

Standin' on the corner, suit case in my hand, Jack is in his coat, Jane is in her vest, and, me, I'm in a rock 'n' roll band. Riding in a Stutz-Bearcat, Jim. Ya know, those were different times. The poets, they studied rules of verse, and the ladies, they rolled their eyes.Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane! Sweet Jane!
Now, Jack, he is a banker, and Jane, she is a clerk. Both of them save their monies, when they come home from work. Sittin' down there by the fire, the radio does play. The classic music is, "The March of Wooden Soldiers", and you can heard Jack say, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane.
Some people like to go out dancin'. Now other people they go to work. There's even some evil mothers, they'll tell you life's just made out of dirt.That women, they never really faint, and villains always blink their eyes.That childeren are the only ones who blush, and life is just to die. That every one who ever had a heart...that wouldn't turn round and break it, anyone that played a part, whooa, and wouldn't turn round and hate it.Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane, Sweet Jane.
Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane) Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane)...Sweet Jane! (Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane)...(Sweet Jane).

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Love

My long first year of perfect love,
My deep new dream of joy; She was a little chubby girl,
I was a chubby boy.

I wore a crimson frock, white drawers,
A belt, a crown was on it;
She wore some angel's kind of dress
And such a tiny bonnet,

Old-fashioned, but the soft brown hair Would never keep its place;
A little maid with violet eyes,
And sunshine in her face.

O my child-queen, in those lost days
How sweet was daily living!
How humble and how proud I grew,
How rich by merely giving!

She went to school, the parlour-maid
Slow stepping to her trot;
That parlour-maid, ah, did she feel
How lofty was her lot!
Across the road I saw her lift
My Queen, and with a sigh
I envied Raleigh; my new coat
Was hung a peg too high.

A hoard of never-given gifts
I cherished, priceless pelf;
'Twas two whole days ere I devoured
That peppermint myself.

In Church I only prayed for her
'O God bless Lucy Hill;'
Child, may His angels keep their arms
Ever around you still.

But when the hymn came round, with heart
That feared some heart's surprising
Its secret sweet, I climbed the seat
'Mid rustling and uprising;

And there against her mother's arm
The sleeping child was leaning,
While far away the hymn went on,
The music and the meaning.

Oh I loved with more of pain
Since then, with more of passion,
Loved with the aching in my love
After our grown-up fashion;

Yet could I almost be content
To lose here at your feet
A year or two, you murmuring elm,
To dream a dream so sweet.

poem by Edward Dowden
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Intro/sweet Jane

Standing on the corner
Suitcase in my hand
Jacks in his corset, jane is in her vest
Me, honey, Im in a rock n roll band
Ridin in a stutz bearcat, jim
Those were different times
They studied rules of verse
And those ladies they rolled their eyes
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Jack, he is a banker
Jane, she is a clerk
Both of them save their money
When they come home from work
Sittin by the fire
Radio does play, look classical music there, kids
The march of the wooden soldiers
You can hear jack say
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Some people like to go out dancing
And other people like us, we gotta work
And theres even some evil mothers
Theyll tell you that life is just made out of dirt
And women never really faint
All the villains always blink their eyes
That children are the only ones who blush
And life is just to die
Anyone who ever had a heart
And wouldnt turn around and break it
Anyone who ever played a part
And wouldnt turn around and hate it
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane
Sweet jane, sweet jane
Sweet jane, oh honey, sweet jane
Sweet jane, oh, sweet jane
Sweet jane, sweet jane

song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Mother Mother

How you cared for us. Don't keep away from us.I won't surive without you/ Mother Mother Mother Your eyes show me the way. When I fall on my way. You lend me a hand to carry on. Mother Mother Mother You had a very hard life. But you gave your baby your own bread from your own mouth. When she feels hungry. Mother Mother Mother If I pass though this word. I wouldn't find you anywhere. Your sweet smile makes me happy. Mother Mother Mother My love for you will go on forever. I love you my Mother Mother Mother forever and ever. written 6/23/08 Posted 10/27/08 In the memory of my mother Esther Ferber Klayton

poem by Susie Sunshine
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Repentance And Reconciliation

JANE.
Mamma is displeased and looks very grave,
And I own, brother, I was to blame
Just now when I told her I wanted to have,
Like Miss Lydia, a very fine name.
'Twas foolish, for, Robert, Jane sounds very well,
When mamma says, 'I love my good Jane.'
I've been lately so naughty, I hardly can tell
If she ever will say so again.

ROBERT.
We are each of us foolish, and each of us young,
And often in fault and to blame.
Jane, yesterday I was too free with my tongue,
I acknowledge it now to my shame.
For a speech in my good mother's hearing I made,
Which reflected upon her whole sex;
And now like you, Jenny, I am much afraid
That this might my dear mother vex.

JANE.
But yet, brother Robert, 'twas not quite so bad
As that naughty reflection of mine,
When I grumbled because Liddy Bellenger had
Dolls and dresses expensive and fine.
For then 'twas of her, her own self, I complained;
Since mamma does provide all I have.

MOTHER.
Your repentance, my children, I see is unfeigned,
You are now my good Robert, and now my good Jane;
And if you will never be naughty again,
Your fond mother will never look grave.

poem by Charles Lamb
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William Upson

Air -- "The Major's Only Son"

Come all good people, far and near,
Oh, come and see what you can hear,
It's of a young man, true and brave,
Who is now sleeping in his grave.

Now, William Upson was his name --
If it's not that it's all the same --
He did enlist in the cruel strife,
And it caused him to lose his life.

He was Jesse Upson's eldest son,
His father loved his noble son;
This son was nineteen years of age,
In the rebellion he engaged.

His father said that he might go,
But his dear mother she said no.
"Stay at home, dear Billy," she said,
But oh, she could not turn his head.

For go he would, and go he did --
He would not do as his mother bid,
For he went away down South, there
Where he could not have his mother's care.

He went to Nashville, Tennessee,
There his kind friends he could not see;
He died among strangers, far away,
They knew not where his body lay.

He was taken sick and lived four weeks,
And oh, how his parents weep,
But now they must in sorrow mourn,
Billy has gone to his heaven home.

If his mother could have seen her son,
For she loved him, her darling one,
If she could heard his dying prayer,
It would ease her heart till she met him there.

It would relieved his mother's heart,
To have seen her son from this world depart,
And hear his noble words of love,
As he left this world for that above.

It will relieve his mother's heart,
That her son is laid in our grave yard;
Now she knows that his grave is near,
She will not shed so many tears.

She knows not that it was her son,
His coffin could not be opened --
It might be some one in his place,
For she could not see his noble face.

He enrolled in eighteen sixty-three,
The next day after Christmas eve;
He died in eighteen sixty-four,
Twenty-third of March, as I was told.

poem by Julia A Moore
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At The Time When Mother Left For Ozamis

i remember now
it was at that time when mother packed her clothes
and left my father for good
back in the little village where mother
was raised by grandmother
as a naive girl
keeping things to herself.
she dwells in a house of silence.

it was at that time when father said
that he loves her very much
that losing her would mean his death
but mother was no longer in the house
where we grew.

and of course, mother did not really believe him.
she died ahead of him, and he got drunk everyday, and
he put her picture on top of his chest and he cried all night long
staring at her face, black and white, her hair her mouth.
he died a year after and he was buried just beside her pantheon.

i still wonder if mother would believe him.

the silence is overwhelming. no one sweeps the heaps of leaves
and no wind is strong enough to clean the mounds filled with thick grass.

come summer time, i see white daisies blooming, and a black butterfly
hovers to stop a while. I watch closely this new turn of events.

it is like poetry. Some metaphors. Symbols, and hints. Love's mouth
wanting to say all over again, what the heart has constantly hidden.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Matter of Trust on a Summer's Day

Jane's mother said
she was up by the church
and so you went up

the path leading
to the church of St Mary
and there she was

laying some flowers
on a gravestone
she looked up

as you approached
and smiled
your mother told me

you were here
you said
I think Mother

must like you
she wouldn't
have told you

otherwise
Jane said
getting up

from the graveside
and brushing her hands
on her summery dress

who are the flowers for?
you asked
looking at the flowers

placed in a small jar
on the grave
a parishioner

we used to know
who used to like
this type of flower

oh I see
you said
looking at the graves around

and the Downs further back
and the trees nearby
where did you want to go?

you asked
how about a walk to Cocking?
we can do some shopping

while we're there
and enjoy each other's
company in the process

is it far? you asked
a mile or so
she replied

ok
you said
and you followed her

down the path
and along the lane
to her house

and you waited outside
while she went inside
after a few minutes

her mother came out
with her and said
it's very good of you

to go with Jane
all that way
I wouldn't like her

to go alone
that's all right
you said

and she smiled
and went in side
and Jane said

see she trusts you
not many boys
around here

she'd say that to
oh right
you said

looking at
her dark hair
and her eyes

gazing at you
and her hand
holding a shopping bag

and her lips
breaking into a smile
come on

she said and
so she took
your hand

and you walked
along the lane
keeping close

to the hedgerow
the sun warm
and the sky blue

and you sensed a joy
of it being
just her and you.

poem by Terry Collett
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Who Helen Was

She wasn't a singer or some movie star
She was in my heart, that place now a scar
She didn't win awards or gain any fame
She's in heaven now, there are those at blame
Her life was so sad from begining to end
But she was always, considered my friend
They abused her so much and took all she had
I loved her always, good times and bad
I tried to move her out of that horrible place
The angels took her home, only by gods grace
Her life was tormented for so many years
She's free now and i'm left with so many tears
What could i have done to make it better
They will know her name, that's why this letter
They took her dignity and self respect
This is one debt that god will collect
You can't destroy god's children and still be free
At judgement day, you'll pay a great fee
She's gone from this life to a better place
When the angels come i'll see her face
They cannot hurt her anymore
With eagle wings she'll finally soar
Helen was my precious mother
All that's left is my sister and brother
Your day is coming mother dear
And those who hurt you have much to fear
Vengeance is mine said the lord
He will strike down with his mighty sword
So once more mother, i will say good night
Rest easy my sweet, it's no longer your fight!

poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She'd Lie

She'd lie
Without cause or reason
Don't ask me why
Every chance she got she'd lie
It was pitiful really
A small exaggeration first
Only to be magnified
And wound into an elegant fraud
To be like Them
I wouldn't get mad
I was simply bewildered
They say to tell the truth is easier
But too ordinary for her I suppose
Not grand enough and so
The People wore clothes by Ralph Lauren
And all of their children went to Penn
And she'd rubbed elbows
With Who, What, Where, and When
Some names were dropped to emphasis this point
So that you'd know she was the square peg
In the square hole
Except she'd lie
Did it really matter what car they drived?
Or that they lived in Century Heights?
The longer I'd listen the sadder I became
For I could see she'd told so many lies
In her mind she'd become who she wanted to be
Forget that these were made up tales she told
And that she'd really grown up in
A house with rat holes
And if that were not sad enough
She did not know I was looking down on her
Instead of up

Written by Sara Fielder © 2011

NOTE: This poem was written about my mother.

poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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