Mommy, a Lady’s writing
big hand for me with commas.
Did you write me down, and
everything? Ok. Here goes:
No wait a second. Ok, umm
Mommy don’t let me cry too much.
I didn’t mean to be mean
to Daddy when he yelled
Didn’t want to make you
go to jail
Mommy, I’ll let him
touch my breast again
if they’ll let you out
from jail
Has he gone to Heaven?
Foster people say
you’re trash
Mommy, forgive me.
Didn’t want you to kill Dad.
Mommy, don’t let me cry too much.
My poem. Is it good, Mommy?
Lady don’t cry. Make it good? Ok?
Make it pretty on good paper.