Being Special

I see it in his face
Gazing out the window at strangers
Giving out unsolicited smiles
Hoping to get one in return
Forced or natural, it hardly matters.

When I was much younger
And then this morning too,
In the midst of praying for world peace
and an end to neo natal deaths
I yearn it too.

It didnt matter that he feels it
And hears it daily
From an adoring ma and pa,
In the loving touches and hugs
Words softly spoken with loving gaiety.

He needs it still more
From someone who didn’t have to know or love him
Hesitantly return the special wave and smile
At the little boy gawking expectantly.
Then like a million tiny bulbs
His already-warm face lights up
In him, I see me
As he revel in those moments
Of being special.

© Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Momaholic, 2015.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material on this site without express / written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Biolaleye and Ramblings of A Nigerian Momaholic with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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