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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=382897" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Shirt</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=382897" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The buttonholes were empty.<br>The buttons had all let go.<br>The shirt was now a remnant, <br>one he did outgrow.<br>The sleeves were short so he rolled them.<br>The plaid material was faded.<br>Now it was getting much too tight<br>as he saw his name brocaded.<br>The name was what she called him, <br>'Sonny, sonny boy.'<br>Her voice came back when he wore it.<br>It was a sound of joy.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=382897" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He would have to give up wearing it<br>and pray that she would know<br>that no other shirt he'd ever wear<br>were what her hands did sew.<br>Mom. dear mom you come alive<br>everytime I see that shirt.<br>It helps me when I'm missing you.<br>It takes away the hurt.<br>Every other shirt that I have worn<br>could never quite replace<br>the feeling I get when I see it<br>for I see your loving face.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Edwina+Reizer">Edwina Reizer</a></strong></div>