There are more days that I am alone than there are days with the people I am used to. Songs of my heart is all that I have. I live in a room the size of a kitchen and live there with my little man. He was born on a rainy day. He calls on me to help him. He’s needed my help since that day. I wasn’t able to help him in the beginning but now it’s everyday. He calls upon me a lot. When I was younger I had no heart to share. I didn’t want to. His strength can’t be measured in words. You must measure his scars of the battles he has fought. The war rages on. But now there are days when I need re-assurance of the work I do for him. Many people try to explain this situation to me and that he’ll appreciate everything I did or do for him. When the sun rests and I’m holding him in my arms there is only one way I know if he realizes what I did and do for him. He reaches out for me and grasps my finger in his little hand.
*Dedicated to all the loving parents. Keep up the great work!!