I WRITE

I WRITE

I sit down at my desk with a candle light that flickers upon the wall.

I feel the winter chill go up my spine, there is no heat and my thoughts are cold and weak, my stomach empty, and in desperation I write.

 

Forget me if you will, but open your heart to those who are in need.

The children I speak about, so many that need your light and the warmth of your hand . Give them some peace and bring them your smile, be there angel, if it's only for a day is all I ask of you.

 

Read a story or a poem and you will receive a hug or a smile to warm your winter day. They will start to dream of better days and feel the warmth of the sun once again because of the true beauty of your soul.

 

It's cold and I must go, I am homeless too.

 

If you should meet my sister, Molly and my mother, Brenda, please tell them I am fine and doing well.

You might meet them at the shelter there now.

 

The cold wind blows through the broken glass and down the hall where I rest. I lie on the floor curled up in a ball to try and keep warm.  I close my eyes just for a minute and open them to see a light. A man stood there with wings.

 

"Are you my angel." I whisper?

" Daddy, is that you." I ask?

 

Yes, it's me little Tommy, it's me. I am here to take you home now.

 

Daddy and I start to walk towards the light as he holds me in his arms.

I drop my letter on to the floor to see it drift with the wind.

 

Tomas