Child to Child

I saw him.

I saw your child.

Bullies on your playground backed you into a corner, and he came out.

Your eyes blazed.

Your voice changed.

Confidence and bravado were exchanged for whining demands accompanied by the impotent stomping of rubber-soled feet.

A plush pout replaced your sardonic grin while red-rimmed eyes held years of unshed tears at bay.

And arms that should have held you crossed, instead, across my chest.

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