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Little Angels - Visitor's Poem

by Pranitha Devi Wickins
(PMB; Kwazulu Natal, South Africa)

There's a place I go
when I'm stressed and low,
when my cares and my worries
only seem to grow.

There's a place I go
when my desk's piled high,
when the telephone screams
and my clients sigh.

This place I go to,
has no fancy name.
no displays of grandeur,
no intentions for fame.

My doctors are little angels
with eyes full of love,
their hearts of gold,
reflects heaven, above.

Their tiny little bodies
may never grow bigger
than their other little friends.
--- aids, their killer

But their face lights up,
and their arms open wide,
to receive what you give,
be it attention and pride.

So give, all you can
of your love - stop stressing,
and collect your fill
of our little angels' blessing.


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