In the tradition of young, doting mothers,
I suppose I fall right into place.
Standing aside with the rest of the pride,
Seeking out one special face.
All along I was sure to be different;
Bravely different from all of the rest;
But a wave and a trace of that one special face,
Quickly jolted my courage to test.
‘Come on now,’ I thought, as weaker I got;
But fighting to keep my compose.
How many before me stood in the same spot;
Was my thought, as I dabbed at my nose.
As the bell rang, I eagerly stood,
For yet one more glance at my own.
She stood in her line…not so much as a whine;
Those minutes, I swear she had grown.
The others by then, I knew were like me,
And I knew that I’d been a fool;
But we all had the right to pamper our plight,
When your child has their first day at school.
For Jenna Lynn