Even the Angels Cried
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We dressed him in an ivory lace christening gown,
That had been handed down generation to generation;
I asked my mother and grandmother if it was okay and they said yes,
My baby boy was perfect and he looked so very sweet, just sleeping.
I held him to my heart and my husband did too,
We kissed him and whispered our forever love with tears;
And when it was time, sadly we both gently placed him in his little coffin,
That day was a nightmare that I will relive over and over, till my end.
There was a long row of cars winding down the road,
The cemetery seemed to hush, even the birds were quiet;
And then we were standing at my baby's grave, oh the weeping,
The sounds drifted in the air and amongst the many drooping trees.
Even the angel statues in the cemetery turned and wept his death,
I stood with my parents holding their hands, my husband stood apart;
Oh his face was set in cold stone and he took his deep grief to his own grave,
As they lowered the coffin it started to rain and I lifted up my face.
My mother whispered in my ear, even the angels in heaven are weeping,
I go to his resting place often and bring a white rose for my little baby;
And as I walk that winding road, the angel statues lower their heads and weep,
For in my eyes is a deep pain that will shatter your heart if you dare look.
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May 02, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Even the Angels Cried
Copyright Protected, ID 05-844-446-02
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Submitted to the contest, Deep (001)
sponsor, A Poet Destroyer, Judged 10/07/2020
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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