Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 - Page 56

My Child | Paula Acton

When I think of all the things

You have been and meant to me,

All the things you could have been,

Paths left devoid of footprints.

At first you were a fantasy

A game played as a child

Then left, abandoned, far behind.

Next you were a nightmare

A burden, to be avoided at all costs.

Gradually the horror fades

With the ticking of the clock.

Once again you fill my dreams

And I run towards you, not away.

From there you become reality

The spark within my soul

And of my flesh you cultivate

A body of your own.

Time passes as you grow and change

An entity in your own right.

Until finally you greet the world

Perfect in every way.

You learn to walk, run and talk

A new discovery every day.

But fate it is a fickle thing