A poem I wrote on one my sleepless nights trying to figure out how to afford therapy for my beautiful son.
Flashbacks and pictures...trying to figure it out.
Hopes and wishes replaced with doubt.
When did the hurricane hit...how in the world did I miss it?
The damage remains..pieces of all that mattered. Just shattered.
How do I pick them up to fix you?
How do I make the breakthrough?
Trapped at a roadblock, my mind still paralyzed with the shock.
But this journey, my body still has to travel...
And not let what's left start to unravel.
This may not ever be "the norm"...
But you were, are, and always will be My Perfect Little Storm.
Sterling Heights, MI