TiredA Poem by TamaWe tend to take the little things for granted. Always spread love.
"I'm tired," my mom told me.
"I can't do anything, we don't have money." "At least clean the dishes, my bones ache." "I'll do it later okay?" She laid down and never woke up. I cried because of what I hadn't done.
© 2017 Tama |
StatsAuthor |