11:11 rolled around again.
Instead of wishing for love
or less confusion
or something for me,
like I'd normally do,
I wished for the kids.
I wished for the safety
and peace of mind
of those poor kids.
I wished for their
mental abuse to end,
for them to smile
like they used to.
I didn't even think
about including myself in that,
though I suffer the same problems.
My worries are strictly for them,
little kids who don't know how to survive.
I can take care for myself,
but they're so fragile- so innocent.
I wish I could go back to that,
but it's too late for me.
All I can do preserve theirs
and wish for them at every 11:11
and on every shooting star and dandelion.
Comments
Post a Comment