Notes About The Poem

INDIAN GIVER OR A LOAN

She is gone, but where, but why?

Where does that leave me:

And why did she have to leave.?

"What is the real word for Indian giver"?

You give Someone something, and you take it back,

there has got to be a word for that.

Because I know that those who they wrongly

call Indians wouldn't take a gift back.

So, I need that word that means

"gift giver and retriever".

Children are our gifts given us by

God or so it has been said,

and known! But since God took my child back,

She must have been on loan.

Because I don't know where she is-

But Kai-Kachelle, my daughter

is nowhere to be found.

She is gone, but where, but why?

She came, she saw, she conquered,

My guess her job was done...

We miss her more and more each day:

As it has been two years nearing three.

I now overstand that God had loaned me,

A uniquely beautiful child:

After is said and done:

She was still his property ...

So, I live, I learn, I cry and hope...

To hold my gift again.

If I get another chance to do things properly.

I will take care better care my gift;

and not treat her as mine alone,

Now knowing she was mine to care for

And a privilege of God’s loan.

 

on the loss of my only daughter Kai

Indian Giver Or a Loan

She is gone, but where, but why?
Where does that leave me:
And why did she have to leave?
"What is the real word for Indian giver"?
You give someone something, and you take it back,
there has got to be a word for that.!

Because I know that those who they wrongly
call Indians wouldn't take a gift back.
So, I need that word that means
"gift giver and retriever".

Children are our gifts given to us by
God or so it has been said, and known! 

But since God took my child back,
She must have been on loan.

Because I don't know where she is-
But Kai-Kachelle, my daughter
is nowhere to be found.

She is gone, but where, but why?
She came, she saw, she conquered,
My guess. her job was done...

We miss her more and more each day:
As it has been two years nearing three.

I now overstand that God had loaned me,
A uniquely beautiful child:
After all, is said and done:

She was still Gods property ...
So, I live, I learn, I cry and hope...
To hold my gift again.

If I get another chance, to do things properly.
I will take better care of my gift;
and not treat her as mine alone.
Now knowing she was mine to care for
And a privilege of God’s loan.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Dorsey Avatar
December 16, 2017 at 6:57 PM
My condolences. I hope to read other poems from you.
Acquah Avatar
December 16, 2017 at 9:36 PM
give thanks i read some of yours and enjoyed.
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