AN ANGEL WITHOUT WINGS
She could fly
But she chooses not to,
Just to give me the wings
To soar higher than the eagles.
She could climb
But she chooses not to,
She gives me the tallest ladder
With succulent rugs for me
To reach the mountain top.
She could work
But she chooses me as her
Personal work,
to love and to cherish me,
to daily shower me
With her tender love and care
She could abort
But she chose to
Go through the excruciating
Pain of labour,
standing between the devil
and the deep blue see –
She risked between life and death
Just to give me the air that I breath.
She could kill me
She could eliminate me
She could terminate me
She could destroy me
But,
She chose to preserve me
She chose to protect me
She chose to pamper me
And to package me
To be the man I am, today!
By Patrick James