Emma
Emma was a frail little thing
Lying there in her hospital bed
Tethered by tubes to this mortal life
Not a hair on her tiny sweet head
As I cared for her medical needs
She sometimes spoke quietly to me
Her spirit was strong even then
A wonderful soul I began to see
She asked me not to be sad for her
As if she knew something I did not
Not it seemed, the least bit afraid
But so tired of the fight she fought
I never saw her sweet face again
But remember her I always will
She was the essence of bravery
When life is difficult I think of her still
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2014
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