Growing up By Jim Gandolf

Growing up 

By Jim Gandolf 

The cradle rocked, a fleeting hold,

Nine months young, a story told,

Of parting ways, a tender age,

Turning a painful, lonely page.

Then shadows fell, a heavy hand,

Across the years, a shifting sand

Of step-sire's wrath, a stinging blow,

A childhood marked by aching woe.

Through halls of learning, twelve he trod,

A restless spirit, touched by God,

Four middles passed, a hurried pace,

In high school's climb, he found his place.

Each new beginning, a fresh fight,

To rise above the fading light,

To find his strength, his inner core,

And reach for something to adore.

Though early wounds ran deep and true,

A resilience blossomed through,

A spirit forged in trials deep,

A promise that he'd learn and keep.

Jim Gandolf 

@2025 

Balance