1 of 164

Write now Article Tools

Little Boy Blue

He ran with a limp, my Little Boy Blue
as I bent to give him a hand,
his words flowed, open and warm
as I listened to every command.

Hold me and tell me just once more
how someday I'll run that race.
I'll run as fast as everyone else
cause I won't need a brace.

I scooped him up in my arms so tight
and threw him high in the air
so he wouldn't see my sad red eyes
or the tears that I hid there.

His one little arm, reached high in the sky
the other clutched close to his side.
He giggled with glee like a healthy child
not knowing, again I lied.

You'll win that race my little man
the fastest they'll ever see
and Mom and I will cheer you on
an Olympian someday you'll be.

His time was short the doctor said
his body was losing the fight
and I prayed on bended knee every day
that God would make him all right.

He doesn't run with a limp anymore
cause he doesn't run at all.
He lays in a hospital bed all day
and quietly stares at the wall.

It won't be long, he said to me
I'm ready to run that race.
I saw it last night in my dream so clear
I'll run to a heavenly place.

Today I placed a victory wreath
upon his grave so new
he won that race; that heavenly race
now God holds my Little Boy Blue.

Learn more about this author, J Meckes.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Poetry: Death of a child?
We want to hear your view. Write now!