Poetry Blogs (Step son)
Dear Ezra Bebot,
The first time I saw you, your mouth held no words.
I would take you out and watch you marvel at the birds.
Your awkward waddle would bring me smiles.
There was peace in my life holding you as we walked for miles.
The screaming, the crying, the testing,
The laughing, the hugging, the learning.
As I helped you grow, and loved every moment.
Even the ones that involved your excrement.
Saturday 13th April 2019 9:19 pm
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