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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=577381" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mother Child</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=577381" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She's 46<br>but like a baby she clings<br>so obsessed with feeling wanted<br>she was never ment to be a mother</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=577381" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">She's 15<br>takes herself so seriously<br>Has to be the mature one<br>has to pretend things are okay<br>She rarely laughs<br>rarely smiles<br>Oh, The mother child<br>At night she curls in a ball<br>clawing, clinging to her dreams<br>She dreams of laughter, fun, and smiles<br>She dreams of screaming and running for miles<br>But thats all they are<br>Because when she wakes<br>her mother lyes waiting, pleading<br>for the little mother child.</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=Kelsi+Brockway">Kelsi Brockway</a></strong></div>

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