Response

I am no longer that chubby toddler whom crie out aloud from mothers milk. Am pitying my self. Life that I thought I would live to have was deprived of me . It's hard to adjust to this dilemma. Am pitying my self. I am full of shame and tatty retention. How these winters got me a cold. How the nights got long, dead silence Am pitying my self. I have grown to acknowledge two fosters now that In one's eye I chose. All this in a winter shift, cold is the treat and gloomy penetrance, blizzards singing of impetuous tweets. Am pitying my self.