9 Months and a Day

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    9 Months and a Day

    I keep shakin my head in disbief because presently in my life
    the only thing that makes me happy is a baby boy who can not speak. when i see him peacefully sleep,
    i think of the many mistake I've made through life
    and wish i could rewind those 9 months and a day,
    just for his well being.
    so he wouldn't have to know the true meaning of this hell we call life. but i'm 9 months and a day already in
    and the more i keep writing the less stable my hands becomes,
    just thinking he only gets one life and no re-runs.
    9 months and a day
    i finally realize a child has come.
    9 months and a day
    i realize i am a father of a son.
    9 months and a day
    i finally realized i have no coice but to be a father to my son.
    9 months and a day.

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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    ruworthy’s Poems (3)

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