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Poetry by Rachel A. Gold

Young Girl

Baby

by Rachel A. Gold

My parents had four children
Three daughters and a son
They loved us all, but I'll admit
I was the petted one.

You see, I was a fragile child
From babyhood and so -
My mother was always scared that I
Would never live to grow.

Finally I did grow up
But I was never well
So I decided to grow strong
Just how I tried I'll tell

I started out to take long walks -
And exercised each day.
It helped a lot I'm certain, and
My illness went away.

And so I felt much better
And I grew straight and tall.
And I think my mother finally felt
She'd raise me after all.


Poetry by Rachel A Gold


Copyright 1996-2000

Tuesday, 04-May-2010 14:48:16 EDT