Friday, March 17, 2006

When. By Dana Beth

When you were a baby I though you were so small

When you were one I thought you were no longer a baby at all

When you were two I thought all the baby in you was gone

When you were three I thought my little boy was so big and strong

When you were four I thought you were so wise for your age

When you were five I thought you had become a school kid in a day

When you were six I thought I’d cry when you went to 1st grade

When you were seven I thought you were too big to hug me every day

When you were eight I thought you were my little man

When you were nine I thought you would never again hold my hand

When you were ten I thought you would never sit and talk heart to heart

When you were eleven I thought how did you ever get to be this smart

When you were twelve I thought you were embarrassed by me

When you were thirteen I thought you were too big to climb a tree

When you were fourteen I thought you were crazy about girls

When you were fifteen I thought you were living in your own world

When you were sixteen I thought you were going to kill yourself driving

When you were seventeen I thought you were just getting by, just simply surviving

When you were eighteen I thought you were never going to ask for advice

When you were nineteen I thought at “quarters” you were very precise

When you were twenty I thought to ask “How does it feel to have grown out of your mothers grasp?”

When you were twenty-one you gave me your answer when you held my hand, kissed my cheek,
and asked “Mother what should I do? I think I love her, she is so much like you.”