by Barbara B-Miles Jackson
Wait for me,
Let me walk with you.
Play with me-
I wont fun - to share.
My dress, my shoes,
Look at me,
Though I am not pretty.
With the wonder of a child;
I walk, play and grow,
I fall down.
Get up, get up,
Take my hand;
Standing alone;
With acceptance, contentment,
The inner child cries not.
From:
written for the Linked In Poetry Group, April 2015
Last updated April 18, 2015