Re-Post; Something To Think About

Every now and again, I like to post this just to make you think. Even though I wrote it, it still makes me remember, think and pray...

My Granddaughter…Aries

I wrote this, not long after my release from Prison. I had laid there, alone, one night, unable to sleep. I began to think about all I had seen and heard, some of the stories.As part of a therapeutic community, a rehab within the prison, we had delved into a lot of issues, most brought on by addiction. Some were honest and frank, matter of fact. Some showed no remorse but often times, the women did not understand how they could do the things they had done. They had killed, starved, sold, cut, maimed, abused, neglected, molested and raped their children. I’d spoke with women, outside of a treatment setting and many of these women knew not, why they did what they did.

But who suffered the most, when the Mother was taken to prison? The children and they paid the price for it all. They had already been neglected and hurt and now they would be passed around like a garage sale rag doll. Pray for the children, will you?

“Bless This Child”

Bless this child who’s beaten daily, much more than he can take.
Bless this child who cries at night, his hunger still awake.
Bless this child who’s born of drugs, no habit of his own,
Bless this child who screams in silence he bears his pain alone.
Bless this child not wanted still, a lonely path to lead,
Bless this child so young, too young, molested, made to bleed.
Bless this child born of pain, whose mother barely cares,
Bless this child afraid of dark, it only brings nightmares.
Bless this child too frail to eat, afraid to die just yet,
Bless this child disease will claim, his dreams are never met.
Bless this child who wants to die, his life seems only lies,
Bless this child through suicide can’t say his last good-byes.
Bless this child who’s father’s gone, his love poured out in vain,
Bless this child through poverty who’ll only know hate and pain.
Bless this child who’s shook in anger, now knocks at heaven’s gate,
Bless this child you’ll never know, her story told too late.
Bless this child who’s sent to you, a present from above,
Bless this child you call your own, make sure you show them love.

Always Keeping It Real,

Aunt Babz
"Even the most brilliant minds can have troubled souls."