Just Around The Bend

I have a little group of friends,
As dear as they can be.
I love them all, but sad to say,
Most I'll never get to see.

The only claim I have is that
When I feel sad, alone or blue,
I get on line,
Play wav's and chat.
And maybe find someone who feels it too.

They give love
And support,
Opinions and such,
Which I can take or ponder much,
But...sometimes I round a bend
And Lo!! I'll make a brand new friend.

Feel bad, or sad?
Just plain sick?
Got an attitude or habit
You want to kick?
"Its ok", your friends will say,
"We've all been there before,
A time or two, just like you".

author unknown

Dear Teddy....

Teddy, I've been bad again,
My Mommy told me so;
I'm not quite sure what I did wrong,
But I thought that you might know.

When I woke up this morning,
I knew that she was mad;
Cause she was crying awful hard,
And yelling at my dad.

I tried my best to be real good,
And do just what she said;
I cleaned my room all by myself,
I even made my bed.

But I spilled milk on my good shirt,
When she yelled at me to hurry;
And I guess she didn't hear me,
When I told her I was sorry.

Cause she hit me awful hard, you see,
And called me funny names;
And told me I was really bad,
And I should be ashamed!

When I said, "I love you, Mommy,"
I guess she didn't understand;
Cause she yelled at me to shut my mouth,
Or I'd get smacked again.

So I came up here to talk to you,
Please tell me what to do;
Cause I really love my Mommy,
And I know she loves me, too.

And I don't think my Mommy means,
To hit me quite so hard;

I guess sometimes, grown ups forget.
How really big they are!

So Teddy, I wish you were real,
And you weren't just a bear;
Then you could help me find a way,
To tell Mommies every where,
To please try hard to understand.

How sad it makes us feel;
Cause the outside pain soon goes a way,
But the inside never heals!

And if we could make them listen,
Maybe then they'd understand;
So other children just like me,
Wouldn't have to hurt again.

But for now, I guess I'll hold you tight,
And pretend the pain's not there;
I know you'd never hurt me,
So Goodnight, Teddy Bear!

Author - Cindy Pike Dunning

A Mother's Prayer

Dear Lord, It's such a hectic day,
With little time to stop and pray,
For Life's been anything but calm,
Since You called me to be a Mom,

Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with matching blocks,
Cooking, cleaning, finding shoes,
And other stuff that children lose,

Fitting lids on bottled bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs,

A stack of last week's mail to read,
So where's the quiet time I need?
Yet, when I steal a moment, Lord,
Just at the sink or ironing board,

To ask the blessings of Your grace,
I see them, in my small one's face,
That you have blessed me
All the while --
And I stoop to kiss
That precious smile.

~Unknown Author

THIS POEM APPEARED IN THE SEPT,96
ISSUE OF M.E.N. MAGAZINE

Nothing's ever hurt me
No pain I've ever known
Like the tear I saw escaping
My child's eye when I came home.
My child told me "Daddy,
It hurts when you're away.
It's another kind of pain
I don't know much about it.
But I know it's very strong
And it seems to be getting a little worse
Each day that you are gone."
I drew my child close to me
And as my child cried
My face was streaked with agony
As tears fell from my eyes
I whispered reassurance
And silently I prayed.
I prayed to God that destiny
Would not take me away.
For everything I treasure,
Nothing's more important
Than to save my child's tears.

Deano

MISTYŠ

My name is Misty, I am only three.
My eyes are swollen, I cannot see.
I mustn't be blamed for the lessons I've learned,
For I am punished with cigarette burns.
Un un-needed child, that's what I am.
My parent's don't care or give a darn.
I've always been a very cheap joke,
For they spend all their money on speed and coke.
Hush, now...I hear a car.
My daddy's back from Charlie's Bar.
I hear his screams, my name is called.
He finds me hiding in the hall.
I feel the pain against me again,
Oh please, dear God, let it end!
My name is Misty, I am only three.
Last night my daddy......murdered me.

ŠAuthor-- Sherrie

I recently recieved an email from the Author of
of this poem and I am happy to give credit to her.
I know many of you have seen this poem across the net,
BUT...how many of you knew the true story behind it?

Below is what the Author-Sherrie wrote me:

Hi my name is Sherrie, I am 13 years old and
I wrote the Misty poem. I wrote it about a turkish girl in Turkey.
My dad lived in Turkey for a year. Everyday a girl would come up to
him and ask for something american. He tried to do it as best as
possible for if she didnt return with something american her father
would give her cigarette burns. My dad would give shoe laces, coins,
toothbrushs, anything really.

One day, like the many others he did not have anything.
The next day the girl did not return, and for the rest of
the year he stayed, the girl did not return.

My father guessed that her father, in a drunken rage had
killed his begging daughter. I have a picture of her too,
and all along her arms are cigarette burns.

I have written 100 poems that I am going to publish.
I know that most of my poems are over the internet.
I am trying to get them published, and they are all copyrighted too.

If any of you have this poem on your site, please give Sherrie
the credit she deserves for this wonderful work.
Sherrie, I didn't feel comfortable in giving out your last
name nor where you live.

Animated Babies are by Kitty Roach.

None of the graphics are mine nor
do I take credit for them.
If you own them, please contact me
so I can give proper credit or remove them.