Little Dreamer


Hard to look upon the face of my sleeping child.
I see are all the ways I wasn’t what she needed today.
Even now-with a sleeping face,
I see peace, her innocence.
As though not wandering in a world
where not even I can protect her.
What hell, for the Mother too afraid
to look upon the face of her sleeping babe.

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This Poems Story

Loving a child is terrifying.