Hard things in These titles mean nothing.

This is Gracie. I have hands.
I can put words in the keyboard.
I can tell you what’s inside a dog.

Mommy lies on the floor and licks the sore on her arm
Mommy finally know who I am, she knows
How it feels to want and be dependent.

I let the night go by, minutes, hours, till a new day
My life’s been wild and serene, dangerous and peaceful
It last from sunset till the dawn.

Mommy’s life is now, hard and sore
The ache of age, the plan to be over
The narrowness of limited sensation

Mommy and me, we’ve had good times and bad times
The door has been closed more than it’s been open
Food and time and motion have denied us nothing.