I remember being held by the sweet lullaby of a loving mother’s whisper on the top of my wispy head. now I stare at life’s finite hope on the juvenescence playground- jumping rope riding the swings round and round and round the May Day pole. I’m holding my head high I’m soldier brave I’m teflon tough and rawhide strong but Hold my hand - guide me through this mercurial journey. use your words to emery the edges permitting me the positive self composure i deserve Witness my life. infix laudable value into who I will be - be the difference WriteInSpace© worldwide rights reserved 2016