A tiny little poem written in fun
On the wall near school, where someone
Could see and spread
The nonsense they read…
Four rhyming lines unbalanced the cocked gun.
A tiny little hand curled up in a fist
Made its way to the top of my list
Her sweet smile
Soothed for a while
And then they found out all about my cyst.
His first tiny steps towards the light
Was the crowning glory of the night
Till he came home
Drunk and undone
And the happiness was lost in the endless fight.
So many tiny stories all weaved together
Written carefully and bound tight in leather
To remind her again
She had much to gain
If only she survived the cruel weather.