Biting her lip, afraid to cry--
What to do when young love dies.
“Mommy, Mommy,” little hands tug,
She bends and smiles then gives a hug.
A happy photo mocks from the wall,
Wedded dreams when she had it all.
“Mommy, Mommy,” a hundred “why’s”
She answers some with just a sigh.
Her heart was stabbed by words so blunt,
Now for her child she fakes a front.
What happened to their “us” and “we”,
And all the plans they made for three?
“Mommy, Mommy, come play please.”
Candyland again? A smile and squeeze.
She’s scared, unsure of what’s ahead,
Her shattered future now is dead.
“Mommy, Mommy,” The day wears on,
Requests/demands from a little son.
Tired and broken, frazzled, undone,
She holds tight to her precious one.
“Mommy, Mommy, tuck me in.”
She does so with a patient grin.
In her room she sits and stares,
Unloads her fears to God in prayer.
He feels her pain and loves her so,
Through this trial He’ll help her grow.
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