And I remember when I was young
I would pretend to be asleep when we pulled up the driveway
So, my mom would carry me gently to bed
Because even then as a young child
I knew moments like this wouldn't last forever
I don't remember when the last time she carried me was
But I remember the love I felt when she did.
YOU ARE READING
Where The Grass Grows
PoetryA poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.
