Mother Child Poem

Poem About a Magical Childhood

A son remembers how it used to be. Life seemed magical as a child, full of possibilities.

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Published: February 2006

Gently a glistening tear . . . of a memory.
There forever time stands still, lost in used-to-be's.
When a held hand meant safety and security.
When tomorrow wasn't yesterday, but seemed an eternity.
When life was simple, easy to be a part of.
When there was time to play in the grass
with no more penalty than a dose of hayfever.

When it was just you and me struggling to survive,
me not knowing what it meant, but I know we got by.
When everything in life was so real, so big, and so new,
life was an adventure to be lived and explored
and it never seemed to matter that it was only our backyard.

Having the chance to dream to do it all,
to be a fireman, a policeman, a doctor, a lawyer,
just having the chance means the world.
But now as I'm caught up in the used-to-be's
and as I settle into the life you hoped it would be,
I hope I'm as good a man as you've been a mother to me.

Your Son



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