poem

Heres a poem that i wrote last night when i got the urge. Bear with me this is the first poem i have written since first grade

So you had heartburn when you were with child, it could have been bad it could have been mild. You were told it would become a thing of the past, not knowing that it really would last.

How would it last you would soon come to know: ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes, with a muscle in the stomache that wont properly close!!!!

watching youre little one deal with this pain, calling the doctor to hopefully gain. the receptionist says “doctor will return your call” will it be in a minute or even at all?

They try and tell us a year will go by and it will soon be a memory high in the sky. so what do we do during this time? we wipe up spit all over the house, everywhere it’s found but mostly mom’s blouse. The washer becomes our best friend, another dirty shirt, oh please not again!!

The zantac we give the precacid we push, hoping it will only come out of the tush!!

I guess that’s what a moms to do, clean up the mess until there 102. Whether it’s milk that gets on the rug, or there first drink, sick,from the toilet they hug.

Then comes the day when you let your child loose, but they come back and give you prune juice And just as you cleaned up there spit for years……….

here comes the prune juice it’s there turn stay clear