Friday, July 27, 2007

Becky's Poem

My daughter, Rebecca, wrote this poem before she was 12... and gave us all a gift of sight.

Today she is a mother of 2...

A Special Poem

A little boy grew, with a dream all his own,
To fly to the moon, and invent his own phone.
He had such big dreams That spread far and wide,
That nothing could hold them ’Cause they came from inside.

As the boy grew, his thoughts started to stray,
Soon all he wanted was a job with high pay.
And all those dreams that he had collected
Were no good now and quickly rejected.

Years slowly passed, and the boy grew older.
He sat for long whiles, getting much less bolder.
He didn’t walk much for because when he did
His bones creaked loudly not much like a kid.

Then one day, while sitting in his chair
The man remembered, the very, very rare
Dream that he had known while around the age of ten
And suddenly the man became a young boy again.

Rebecca Amy Glaser
Age 11.5, 1984

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