Child Within Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

She'll stomp at me in defiance
hold her fists up in the air;
I'll get sick when she cries and screams
and tries to pull out her hair.

The tantrums get my attention
it's her way to make me hear;
there's an angry raging part of myself
going to make itself quite clear.

It's so easy to get busy, forget that she exists
though we've been through all this before;
the only reason she gets royally pissed
is when all I do is work, life's no fun anymore.

Joy is the child inside this woman;
God help me never to forget
to make time for the things she loves
or there'll be ample reasons for regret.