Whose life was only lent to us for a few days, too little time for a budding life that is prepared for with love as soon as you, sweet little soul would set foot in the land where your father's people awaits. Darling little thing who is suppose to be the first soul to run in the wide hearts of your father's parents.
Your sweet cooing sound they would never hear.
The tiny hands who'll grip their fingers no more.
Your sweet cooing sound they would never hear.
The tiny hands who'll grip their fingers no more.
The impish little cries at night that would bring joy to their hearts.
They will forever banish unheard, never felt.
I sat, cowered over your grandmothers sleeping figure.
I sat, cowered over your grandmothers sleeping figure.
Hoarse voice, Swollen eyes.
Tired.Anxious.Vulnerable.Full of sorrow,in pain.
Tired.Anxious.Vulnerable.Full of sorrow,in pain.
I would like you to know, sweet little cherub that your father's mother is a strong woman.
A woman larger than life itself.
One who owns a wonderful heart.
Yet now, I see her broken, crushed by waves of sorrow brought by losing you.
She cries for never having to see your face. For never having to wonder which features of your face was hers.
She cries for never having the chance to carry you in her arms.
For never having to to sing you a lullaby.
and for never having to kiss your little hands and feet.
A woman larger than life itself.
One who owns a wonderful heart.
Yet now, I see her broken, crushed by waves of sorrow brought by losing you.
She cries for never having to see your face. For never having to wonder which features of your face was hers.
She cries for never having the chance to carry you in her arms.
For never having to to sing you a lullaby.
and for never having to kiss your little hands and feet.
But her heart bleeds more as a mother's heart.
For feeling sorry for her son, for not being able to hold your father tight as he was about to lose you.
The mother's heart who cries endlessly for the pain of her child.
You may have been sent and taken away perhaps a little too early, but little love, know that in the hearts of those who yearns to see and love you, you will be forever remembered.
For feeling sorry for her son, for not being able to hold your father tight as he was about to lose you.
The mother's heart who cries endlessly for the pain of her child.
You may have been sent and taken away perhaps a little too early, but little love, know that in the hearts of those who yearns to see and love you, you will be forever remembered.
No comments:
Post a Comment