They Say It Goes So Fast

My poems never let me sleep,

crying loudly, waking me at night

pulling me from bed to fill them up.


They need constant reprimand,

always eating too much candy or

hurting the feelings of someone they love.


My poems demand my attention,

whining at my feet, clutching my legs and

reaching up to be held while I make dinner.


They make me brave,

putting on their little coats and

crossing the street alone–

knowing I am watching,

their forgotten mittens in my hand.

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