Tuesday, April 04, 2006


My son will be ten soon
Some call that a "tween",
Ten-year-olds do things
My son only dreams.

They have over-nighters
They know where to poop,
They've learned to write cursive
Be on teams playing hoop.

They compose and divide
Things he can't even try,
They research and memorize
Learning how to get by.

They know about cities,
Countries and states,
There are things that they're good at
And things that they hate.

They're aware of the world
Understand they're a part,
They have hopes and dreams
They're eager to start.

Learning is hard for him
He came here to teach,
Things taken for granted
Stay out of his reach.

Love is his specialty
He's pure and he's kind,
Peace and compassion
Are what's on his mind.

Perhaps he is right
And the rest are all wrong,
What's best taught in school
Is to just get along.


Donna said...

Sweet Carrie, really sweet...

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