by Angela Ragsdale
Hi, Mom, I don't know how to tell you this,
But I think that you should know,
I'm standing in the cold morning mist,
And this phone is covered with freezing snow.
I hope that you still love me,
And I'll love you just the same,
But right now these are my pleas,
So please don't be ashamed.
I am so very hungry,
My pains of hunger kill,
I need someone to feed me,
For my stomach's small and still.
My face and hands are numb,
My feet are frozen stiff;
But my fear has just begun,
And this snow's no falling gift.
My hair's now long and greasy,
My hands are black with dirt,
But now I really see me,
In my one year tattered shirt.
I thought that life was just a game,
And I was always standing tall,
But now I'm just a man of shame,
Who only stood to fall.
You've always tried to understand,
please let me come back home,
This world has said I'm not a man,
And need some place to go.
Mom, I tried to do my best,
With only twenty years of age,
But today I've been put to death,
With learning I have AIDS.
Last Updated: 4/12/12