To My Prodigal Child

When you see yourself as dust,

I see you as rubies.

You throw mud at yourself,

As I plant daisies.

You diligently take care of me,

As my watchful eye grows lazy.

My gold you have never desired.

But to call you a good steward I'd be a liar.

For you can't see the value in what you hold that is most dear.

Who you will entrust it with is my greatest fear.

By: Heather Alaine Smith