A perfect gift
They come from you,
With little hands and feet.
A cry that says,
The battle, they beat.
Your heart drops hard
When you come to know,
They are not “perfect”.
They may not grow.
For years you fight
And fight in vain.
Perfection now has
A different name
They grow beyond
What others thought.
They gain beyond
Their “given” lot.
But still you watch,
You wait and see.
Your worry continues,
You don’t know when it will be.
The plans have been made.
The ceremony decided.
And still you wait.
And pray.
No comments:
Post a Comment