Perspective Poem by Carol Smith

Two children,
Separated by time,
And a little bit of space,
Each reflecting
On their childhood days.

One thinks,
I wish I’d had your worst of days.

Quietly crying,
Firm and defensive.
Mother too overprotective.
“My friends are free and they live more, ”
Footsteps stomp across the floor.
“What are your holding me back for? ! ”

One thinks,
I wish I’d had your worst of days.

Sleeping eyes,
but cat like senses.
Never resting self defenses.
Hears the creek of the door.
Footsteps now across the floor.
Whispers…”No, no, no, NO
Please, no …... . .
no more.”

I wish I’d had your worst of days.