I wouldn't put all your secrets on my blog for strangers to read,
My darling son you are the one reason I ever had to breed.
I live to see your happy smile and hear your tinkling laugh
I wouldn't sell your private poems or pics of you in the bath.
I wouldn't make a living by spilling all your dirt,
Smiling and giving interviews while oblivious to your hurt,
I won't tell anyone about that secret I swore to forget,
In my need for attention I simply haven't sunk that low.....
not yet .
Inspired (in more ways than the one) by the various news stories about Julie Myerson and her misery lit about her son. I will have to think about this and the opportunities that may open up with a less protective attitude towards the sprog.