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by Ghost Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1238233
Another thing I am going off the top of my head w/ idea I got from watching my baby sister
As I peer out this tiny cave
I stare into the light

They grab ahold of me
As I scream and fight

With every effort
A soothing voice
Begins to keep me calm

I can't really see
Everything is so bright
I scream more and more
Then I'm assured that it's alright

I am set into the arms of an angel
Who holds me o' so tight

Strangly enough this feels right

I am put into a plastic box
My eyes grow heavy
I begin to drift once again to the darkness

The following days are long and crazy
Although I sit in a throne in a metal box named (CHEVY)

The ride is long
But it doesn't feel wrong
I am raised to the sky by my angel
And carried to another place as my legs dangle

Her voice soft and soothing
Yet my vision still hazey
Something seems right
In this place so crazy

For many days my angel sits with me
Assuring me often as I bounce on her knee

I learned I can make many sounds
And if I make enough my angel will come around

I am a baby
And my angel
She is no ordinary lady
She is mom
I am her legacy to carry on once she is gone.

~For my sister Izabelle Grace Zurovski~
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