GOLDEN BOY

By Grace Bizzarro

 

Johnny is gone.  I miss him so.

His shy sweet smile and warm hello.

“Good night Mom.” as he went upstairs.

I always answered, “John, say your prayers.”

Pictures and cards bring a memory

Of the Golden boy who is lost to me.

Did we say enough, or try too hard?

Were there hidden sighs we couldn’t see?

When he did reach out was it just too late

for the Golden boy who is lost to me.

 

 

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