A day doesn't go by.
That I dont often cry.
Wishing we could go back in time.
Making everything so perfect and fine,
Yet then, you wouldn't be who you are today.
You are travelling a path your way.
This world isn't like it used to be.
Drugs, violence, and it scares me.
Moms want to protect their children all the time.
From a world of hate and a world of crime.
But you have love in your heart and big dreams too.
Reach for the stars, and be happy at what you do.
No matter where you are or where you want to be.
Your mom will be happy.
To know you are doing what makes you, you.
The best daughter/son, a mother's dream come true.
Love you. xoxoxo
About the Creator
Cathy Deslippe
Catherine Deslippe
At the age of 7, I became an author. I am an international writer with many authors; all royalties went to cancer patients without insurance. I used to write to cope, but now I write to bring others hope.
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More stories from Cathy Deslippe and writers in Poets and other communities.
Fixing the Jigsaw
Everyone wants to win. I know I do.Friendly competition, to some degree, is even necessary in some contexts. But the win at all costs attitude can have negative consequences for relationships, esecially significant ones. The jealousy that sometimes arises easily turns bosom buddies into foes, which is a tremendous pity.
By Michelle Liew5 days ago in Poets
She loves me
She loved me. When I was small and my wee stayed to the paper. When I was rumpled skin and floppy big paws and big eyes looking up and waiting for her hands to find me, scooping me up and bringing me into her. And we were happy, so happy, so very, very happy. I was so happy to see her and danced my circles so she'd know how much I wanted nothing more than for her to hold me. I'd wrap, wiggle, wiggle and wrap my growing body with my bestest happy dance, slumping and kerplumping into her warm parts just like she liked me to. She was there and I was there, and we were there together, and it was perfect. Oh, how she loved me! We spent all our time together, playing inside, outside, up, down, going round and round. And she petted me and called me good girl when I made poops, and sometimes when I weed in her front yard or the neighbor's, and I was the best girl. For her, I really was! And she scratched me behind my ears, and it was heaven. I aowooo my joy! And she aowoooed hers too.
By Christy Munson6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Dear Cathy - I've missed you - If you have a moment please view - "Victims Too" - you may relate? If not - always the best to you - Jay
Beautiful piece💖