The child makes me laugh,
And makes me cry,
Gives me joy,
Always asking, “why?”
Remembered days gone by,
Abandoned, left to cry,
All alone, with fears intact,
Silence, buried in the making,
Under skin, deep within,
Knowing that the child is me,
Through small eyes I still see
All the scrapes and all the scars,
Every treasure found and lost,
Feeling bruises and the pain,
Every tear and every laugh
Are deep, deep within,
Forever there, forever gone,
My past has made me who I am,
Who I know and who I see,
The child deep within
I begin to know
And call a friend.
Joe Sargent
Durango
