his eyes were closed
but his mind was watching
closely measuring every breath
each slight pause in my cadence
tasted to him of comparison
he sized me up against
all those who came before

My words he caught as well
in a silken net of questions
pinning them down for inspection
on diagnostic paper of white
All brightly colored butterflies
never are as beautiful
as they once were in flight

With fingers clinical and abrupt
now carefully he looks me up
earnestly he tries to find
an explanation for what's inside
chasing words on pages I am racing
with his terminology for mistakes
I know I have made

But my thoughts he can not hold
they simply can't be caught
my dreams not up for inspection
against the wishes of others
What I am......it can't be taught

He will never push his way inside my mind


This is my place
my soul is sacred

02/08/2007

Author's Note: We all wish to know the true thoughts of our children........

Posted on 02/08/2007
Copyright © 2026 Maria Terezia Ferencz