Poetry

Where Do Little Boys Go?

My Little Boys                                                                                                         

Where do little boys go

 

To watch your son run and play,

And make racecar noises all the day,

To hold his little hand when you walk together,

He brings you treasures of dandelions and a bird’s feather.

Wanting to please you and win your affection,

You are certain there will be a constant connection.

 

Guiding his hand as you teach him to draw,

Wanting to catch him whenever he falls,

Kissing boo-boos, but telling him to be tough,

Whether he is meek or whether he is rough,

When he squeezes your neck as tight as he can,

You say to yourself, “that’s my little man.”

 

As he enters adulthood finding his way,

There is very little he has to say.

Where do little boys go?

This is forever a mother’s woe.

Work keeps him busy and he has a life of his own,

The little boy is now full grown.

 

A mother doesn’t want to hold him back,

She encourages him to succeed where she may have lacked.

She just wants the love when he was still hers,

A mother’s love is sometimes a curse.

Of all the things I want to know,

Just where do… little boys go?

 

 

~Jen Jeffrey

       9-1-13

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