He’s my child, my baby, even at 21.
I still want to care, shelter, and protect him…but I am kept an arms length away.
I want to save him but I can’t…..some things not even a mother can do.
What did I do wrong? Choose a mistake, there are plenty to choose from.
Why can’t he see what so many, beside myself see?
He is gifted…….
An artist….a poet.
It’s hard to watch his blue eyes fade.
I’ve done the unthinkable…at least for a mother…I have already given thought to his funeral.
I feel like Nostradamus…a seer of the future…a prophesier.
They jumped from the burning building….free falling to certain death…they had no choice.
My boy has jumped and is free falling too….the only difference?….he has a cord to pull…a parachute.
PULL THE CORD BOY!!!! PULL THE DAMN CORD!!
You have to save yourself child…I have no special powers this time.
Son….you are loved….wanted…..and prayed for.
Mom
Brown Study and Wool-Gathering 