I Want You To Write A Poem Off-the-cuff Right Here Right Now
I remember a time
My favorite I'd say
When I was quite young
And it was the end of the day.
With a kiss on the cheek
A quick pat on the head
Mom would tuck us all in
And sit down on my bed.
Not ready for sleep
Not tired just yet
She knew what we'd ask for
Our minds would be set.
So picking up her guitar
And after feigning a sigh
Mama sang to her angels
Our favorite lullaby.