The Sick Child

The sick child lays still and cranky

looking for the one stray eye to catch her gaze

feeling hopless and tied down low

her temper begins to flair

she wants to drink and eat and play all day

trying to explain that she can not for it will make her worse

she kicks and screams and throws her fits

mom feeling bad as if she’s no help

trying to do the best that she can

she try’s to hug her and compfort her

though feeling so lousy she pushes away and cryes and screams

my heart begins to mold feeling hurt and sorrowed as I don’t want to see her feeling so lousy

awaiting her to return to herself and return to accepting compfort from me

still wishing that my little girl were feeling good and healthy

with nothing to do but just sit and watch her sulk I lay close to her as possible as I may so that I can evaluate her time and intake of what I can get her to take in to her stomach again

feeling bad just watching her lye I hide in the corner with my own tears in my eyes

knowing it’s not serious but even just seeing her not feel well it tears me up within

wishing she were back to her normal and the stress of her temper were settled and silent

though knowing they won’t I try to breath deep for the wind to ease my stress beneath me

closing my eyes and thinking of a simple qiuet place eases my mind

then I can sit and bare a little more of her tourturing discompforting pain

with one last phrase I have on my plate

I say to my child

rest easy tonight

as I myself roll over to rest

I quietly hope for good mornings bliss

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