Parenting, Poetry

The Hold


I swear you my hand dear baby; hold tight,
you’re growing in a world that’s not always right.
You’ll have times when you’ll want to give up on it all,
there’s no shame in failure, find strength from the fall.

Watch for a twist when the path appears straight,
try not to panic, take stock and just wait.
Breathe. Keep breathing until you are ready,
hold tight to my hand, I’ll help you stay steady.

When lights reappear and guide you ahead,
gain virtue from moments that filled you with dread.
My hand, forever there; tightness may fade,
holding my baby, supported and stayed.

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