Dad; your still very special to me; In the wind and the sun and the rain as the years fold away into one you continue to be my someone. I was eight when I stole that jelly-baby

A very rude poem with a sad undercurrent.

A Bunch of Squatters

He had been sobbing for 5 minutes in front of the counsellor, crying uncontrollably, the counsellor felt helpless, and rightly so. The boy looked up at him and said two words: “I’m broken”.

There was no play-school for children as special as Tom in her days. No specialist she knew about who could help her, make suggestions, as to how her 24 hour situation could be handled. No D.L.A.

A Spaceman came to gaze upon a rose.

“Hear that?” “What?” “The rain” “What about it?” “Listening to the rain is very soothing.” “What are you saying? That I need to be soothed.”

One of the doctors had said to her kindly, unknowingly touching her on part of her wrist where she’ accidentally scalded herself, that it might be a good idea if she considered her options.