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!!