Eight Months, by Lunaria
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Eight Months
She was born too soon
All wrinkled like a prune
Arms and legs like sticks
Only four pounds not six
Long orange colored hair
In a glass cage for pre-natal care
In hospital she had to stay
Several more onces she must weigh
Very much alone. No loving touch
No mother's love you needed so much
You needed family's touch to bond
But no one was there for you to respond
Thrown into the cold world before your time
Things like that have no reason or rhyme
Finally home and then you got sick
Back to the hospital very quick
Home and loving arms hold you at last
Now you're eating and growing fast
We did not know but the die was cast
All danger forever and ever is past
©Copyright
All Rights
Reserved
Lila May
Guptill (AKA) Lunaria
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Posted: 2006-03-05 03:29:25 UTC |
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