It isn't mine.
This one's mine:
Pearls
Children are a lot like pearls. It takes some grit to start,
And then you nurse them like a grudge, and keep them near your heart.
You want to give them shelter, to protect them from the world,
But they keep growing bit-by-bit. You end up "Mother of Pearl"ed.
Your face takes on a lustre, your heart a softened edge,
And you don't want to surrender them, it takes the sharpest wedge,
To pry them from your fingertips, to tear them from your grip.
Only giving them up to love can make you let them slip.
Children must learn their way in life. They are, of course, your seeds,
They cannot grow to strength themselves, unless chance meets their needs.
They find it while away from you, and as they search and explore,
But only you will know the little bit of hurt that is at their core.
NicknamedBob . . . . August 6, 2005
Spot on.
But is it a *little* pain? It was easier to part with my gall bladder.