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Poetry: Death of a child

Missing her
Numbness as I look at the polished wood,
it should have been me, if only I could.
The little form lay, only half hid,
under the cover of the brown box lid.
There my baby sleeps on, never to wake,
and I hope there is heaven, just for her sake.

I taste the salt of my bitter tears,
as at last I face the greatest of my fears.
I, too, want to sleep and never to wake,


the chance to be with her once more, I would take.
I just want to cry, hide and walk,
others just feel the need to gawk.

They try to comfort me as I am silently crying,
wondering what they can do, unashamedly prying.
They want to make sure I'm doing okay,
I don't know what they want me to say.
That it's fine. That I don't blame me.'
Well it's not and I do, but they don't want to see.

I watched her struggle, hold on and fight,
all of a sudden, her eyes blank, without light.
It was all just a sick, sick twist of fate,
before I realized, it was all too late.
I wanted to watch her grow up through the years,
but now all I have are again my fears.

When I first held her preciousness in my arms,
suddenly there went all my doubts, my qualms.
She was the vision of perfectness,
and I dreamed of never-ending togetherness.
But alas, that was not meant to be,
for he took her away from me.

Now she's an Angel, my gorgeous miss green eyes.
I know she will be waiting when I finally rise.
I am certain that we will be together again,
whether it be in one or two, or five or ten.
I just want her to be with me,
and once more her and I will be we.

I don't know if there's a heaven and a hell,
or if there's anything after of which to tell,
but wherever be my poor little miss,
please God, just let me blow her a kiss.
And I wish and I wish, and I wish and I pray,
That I will hold her again someday.

Learn more about this author, Amy P Storms.
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