Sorry, son
The text comes through
from an unknown number:
Mom bring paper and ten dollars
and would you bridge me lunch
Language a bit odd, but I get it
and I have an urge to help
and I want to assume she will
do those things, it’s not a lot
to ask of a mom, but all I can say:
Sorry, you texted the wrong number.
I am not your mom.
3 thoughts on "Sorry, son"
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Oh my. Could have been a daughter I guess. And what kind of paper? Hmm…
You captured a great moment!
The poem gives me pause, just as the text must have done to you.