Poetry

Forces Child

By 30th September 2007December 9th, 2019No Comments

My child is four.
He has had four different bedrooms
In four different houses.
His closest friends have moved
Far away from where they once played.
He is fortunate that his father is at home,
But fears a time when things will change.
On his fourth day at nursery he felt lost and small.
He misses his family.
He misses his friends.
He misses his father.
Sometimes it is easy to forget,
My child is four.

Emma Smith

Author Emma Smith

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