Dear God I am riting this to let you no
My Mom's coff got worse and she's just ad to go.
I dont no your E-mail but your everywhere
So sum angel will give it you God, cos you care.
Mom's gone to an ospital they called a Respite
I think that's the name - an I hope it's spelled rite.
They won't let me go cos it's too far away.
But they dont no she hates eggs, an she wont like to say.
Her coff isn't bad when she first gets in bed
But she likes extra pillas God, under er head.
My Mom's got red air, tho she's not got much now
But she likes it combed gently, or else there's a row.
She's got such good teeth God, an beootiful smile
Her nightys are pretty too, she likes keepin in style.
I hope someone reads to her every night - - -
Then says God bless ya and ope bed bugs dont bite.
I thought I would tell you sum things they won't no
And God, cos your busy, I'll sign this off now.
But I wanted to say God before I press send,
She's got nobody there, so please God, be her frend.
Fay Slimm
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/child-s-e-mail-to-god/
