Friday, November 27, 2009

Tears for Lunch, a Poem

Tears For Lunch
Copyright 2009 By
James Robert Smith

The booth in front
of me
seats a beautiful
young mother and her
toddler.
He sits, blonde
and beautiful
like his mom
and gnaws on a fried
potato.
He looks up
at his mother,
and holds a big piece
of that gnawed, delicious
potato
up to her pretty
lips
with his tiny, pink hand
and he smiles
at her
and I put my
face in
my hands
to hide
the tears.

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