A Tribute

Mama’s a name which can be heardRinging, bouncing off bedroom walls,Children entrapped within strange wards,Up and down cities, and institutional halls, Midnight dreams succumb to hearts beingBled, from innocent souls, discardedThrown out, like second hand dollsTear stained pillows, a small expose, A telling - of their troubles and all their woes,Harrowing are the cries, blindly enduredAnd without care, to some members of agencies,Appointed by us and the social welfare, But let me say for a balanced point of view,There are for a lucky few, outstretched armsWilling to embrace and scare away, the nightTerror blues, children plucked, just in neck of time, To be shown that love can, and does really shine through,That sleep can be a place where magical jauntsLead to magical thought’s crossing magical lands,And on their return, a comfort found, knowing; That there will be loving arms to greet them,Upon opening their peeky little eyes,Unconditional love unconditionally given,                  <------------------------>                       <Reflection>                           In Deep                   Love and Respect          and remembrance of a couple          who gave of themselves and          helped ease many tortured          young souls.  In loving memory          to you both……………….                        Jim & Jean Sadly I’m ashamed to say, thatI never got to say, thank youAnd that I did, and always will,Love;  The both of you,Humbly…
A proud and very thankful,second hand sonPeter