Quatrain Baby Poems | Quatrain Poems About Baby

These Quatrain Baby poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Baby. These are the best examples of Quatrain Baby poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain |

Christmas with Christ To Look Upon His Face

To Look Upon His Face Nativity of Jesus Oh! Starry twilight night Guiding light glows so up high Moonlit shadows slow dance Shooting stars flashing close by Angel's sweet melody echoes flow With the embracing of heaven Human beings, wildlife, and nature bow down Paying homage to our God's son Sparkling eyes and glowing heart Spirit enthusiasm precedes me to look For a brief moment upon His face Heavenly virtue weeping tears overtook To want to lift Him up and hold in my arms My humbleness to submit to Him And seek his grace and favor Spread my wings and sing a Cherub hymn Oh! Starry twilight night Guiding light glows so up high Moonlit shadows slow dance Shooting stars flashing close by Angel's sweet melody echoes flow With the embracing of heaven Human beings, wildlife, and nature bow down Paying homage to our God's son 11/21/2015
Poetry Contest: Any Poem You Ever Penned Sponsored by: Broken Wing

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015

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Baby Brave

A boy lines up plastic soldiers 
In straight rows across his floor.
He knocks them down with callow ease
In a naive game of war.

Far across the deepest ocean,
In between rich, well-known places,
Little boys become those soldiers -
Grow hard lines upon their faces.

Guns weigh down their frail frames,
As they march in groups like drones;
Passing by jumbles of bodies -
Messy piles of flesh and bones.

One cries softly in the corner,
Another cannot bear the sound.
He takes the blunt side of his gun
And beats the other to the ground.

In the streets they pass right over
Mothers murdered, sisters raped,
Countless men whose limbs are broken,
But whose empty eyes still gape.

Narrow roads become red rivers,
Neighbourhoods go up in flames,
Backyards turn into cold graveyards -
Still they play this twisted game.

Far across the deepest ocean,
In the richest, well-known places,
Boys line up their plastic soldiers
With blind smiles upon their faces.

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2012

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My little Chocolate Mess

Bathwater and bubbles are waiting,
but my child is nowhere near.
Yet, I can see from cookie crumbs,
he's crawled from here to there.

Oh, yes! he's been in the kitchen.
I see his crooked crumb trail,
which leads to our white kitten,
with a chocolate, sticky tail!

In every room I search
for my little chocolate mess.
Then, I find him in the my bedroom,
with his hands on my new dress!

Copyright © Darlene Gifford | Year Posted 2014

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Papa, Mama and Winnie

I’ve placed it in the most visible place
This old photo of black and white
Taken in 1943, the edges worn and frayed  
Papa, Mama, Winnie, eyes bright

Though one by one they’ve all gone
They’ve left legacies of love, faith
And the sweet memories linger on
This beautiful photo transmits

When I look at their eyes
Warmth and gentleness residing                   
Dressed in their best, wearing subtle smiles
Beauty is captured, surviving!
Inspired by a beautiful photo of my parents and eldest sister...R.I.P.

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2013

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I Love Mommy Because

Mommy loves me more than laundry
More than dirty dishes too
She’d rather spend her time with me 
Than doing things others do

She would rather play with me 
Than take a nap or sew
I love Mommy ‘cause she loves me
More than any TV show

She’s always there to pick me up 
And love away my tears.
She prays to Jesus every night 
To keep me from my fears

She gobbles like a turkey
And loves to dance around
I always smile; always laugh
She’s better than a clown

She’d rather eat her food all cold
So she can feed me “HUM”, and
Then wipe my face and clean the 
Walls and floor of food I’ve flung
Mommy makes the greatest faces 
When I do something she likes
But, saves the best for when she finds
She’ll need the baby wipes

She mostly talks like grownups do
But tries to talk like me
She hasn't mastered yet just how 
To speak in baby-ese.

If there’s just one thing I could say 
To Mommy when I’m grown…
“Thank you for who you are 
And the love you’ve always shown.”

Copyright © Christopher Thor Britt | Year Posted 2013

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Too Weak to Cry

Unwanted, forced from my mother's womb;
cold, this table where I am lying.
Just one of the aborted millions . . .
does no one care that I am dying?

People wait for my breathing to cease,
callously turning to walk away;
those who should be giving loving care
are extending blood stained hands for pay.

Copyright, August 24, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2015

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Love Without Hope

The OB doctor had feverishly yelled orders in vain
only the nurses trying to save the last triplet remain
Laboring mom in agony trying to cope
Her heart bleeding love without hope

Copyright © Shirley Rebstock | Year Posted 2016

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From the very moment you were conceived I loved you I could feel you kick, as a new life grew inside me One day you stopped moving, and tragically I knew Holding my newborn baby was never meant to be Original Laura Loo's contest Weepy Quatrain awarded 1st place Submitted to best poem from any of Laura Loo's contests 03~29~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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A Fathers Perspective

I was scared oh so scared
Seeing my baby that way
Her tiny little body
Was all purple and grey

My heart feared the worst
I thought she was gone
Down a dark corridor 
My mind had been drawn

My heart became joyful
When the doctor touched her feet
A crying pink angel
This proud papa would meet

I waited to hold her
A truly special day
The cutest thing ever
What else can I say

Moments become years
Special memories are made
Ones that are important
In my heart I've replayed

Like watching musicals
Nick naming her, Gal Sal
My Christina would giggle
Her daddy's little pal

Her happy disposition
Would always make me smile
I treasured each moment
Saved them in a mental file

Like learning to ride a bike
Needing to do it alone
I loved the look of triumph
When she did it on her own

My little daughter growing
Still daddy's little girl
Her my special angel
A treasure and a pearl

My spirits had been low
She went with me on a walk
I felt so much better
Christina let me talk

She had become a woman
Sensitive, wise and kind
Within her heart a treasure
My answer I would find

Cruising down a river
In China mile by mile
Wishing for forever
Yet it passed in just a while

Still I can remember
I really saw her that day
Travelling on her own path
She had found her special way

Now today on her Wedding
I could not be more proud
There's special in her quiet
She is strong although not loud

I entrust her to Michael
My most precious gift
On the strong wings of prayer
Together may God lift

I wrote this poem using My wife Mary's, brother inlaw's memories.
Today July 26th, 2014 is his daughter's wedding day. May God bless 
Christina and Mike's union. 

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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Baby Elephant Walk

The flute plays low
Dum, dum, de, de
Organ joints the tune
Dum, dum, de, de

Clarinet delights the ear
Dum, dum, de, de
Baby elephant wobbles
Not graceful now

High piccolo shrill gay
Dum, dum, de, de
Trombone show the way
Woddle of baby elephant

Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de
Dum, dum, de, de

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

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Stand and deliver

Shot out like a cannon ball
As mother lay there in her bed
Twisted and contorted 
Push down hard the nurse had said
Audience at bottom end
Were quick to save the head
What a pair of lungs cried out
Went from purple blue to red
Cleaned up cord cut and swaddled
Poor child's hungry wants be fed
Mum and dad proud as can be
Holding babe that they have bred

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2015

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I walk on tip-toes in the dark
To take another awe-struck peep
A perfect, tiny, masterpiece
In blue pajamas, wrapped in sleep.

My best creation, born of love
Whose life my soul perchance reflects
And every nuance of his face
My joyous heart again inspects.

An artist with her greatest art
Whose work has only just begun
Each day will add a color, stroke
To this, my canvas, called "My Son."

And nothing else this mother needs
Not food, not shelter, or even rest
But to gaze upon my greatest work
This simple pleasure is the best.

Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2016

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The Day I had my baby

It was a glorious day

I can say as I held you in my arms

You were my little Boy....

Oh I still dream, About all of You

You were mine, my happiness made me cry

To say the least, your Kisses are songs

and you were mine, but now so gone

The dreams are still there, Oh baby of mine..

I give to you all my kisses, I give to you

The words I know, Dreaming of days

Your kisses so pure, My little baby boy

This brings a tear to eye, I miss the heart

That overflows, The truth of someone’s Woes.

A rare and precious Moment, Which it goes and goes

To be lost into, Nothingness

My son you are Gone From me the dreams of you

never leave.

Oh baby of mine

This is dedicated to the son I lost TWENTY one years ago. My heart still breaks. The pain never goes away.

Copyright © Brooke Dylan | Year Posted 2014

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Sweet Baby Starr

Look at you sitting there

With your chubby hand

Holding my heart with your laugh

Knowing where I stand....

Sweet Baby Starr

I know where you are

Starring at you sleeping

Listening to your baby breath

Waiting for your laugh

Hearing the morning sounds

Under the white mounds

Praying a mother’s prayer

While stroking your golden hair....

You are the reason I could fly

My baby Star

You are the reason I feel so alive

My Baby thats what you are...

Look at you growing up

Asleep upon your bed

Holding your teddy bear

Felling such love and care...

With your little arms around my neck

Oh Lord, forgive me I yelled

For some little mistake

That she made

My little Starr....

Kissing my little ones tear stained face

Promising to be better

With each daily light

Holding each other tight....

Chasing the fireflies

In the hot humid night

So tiny she was

But oh so bright....

She sat on the table

Swinging her little legs

Her body as at ease as it could be

Her thought at that time

Was telling the jokes to me....

The little girl sat by her mom’s side

“Mom, when will I grow up?”

Patience dear, it will be soon enough

Star said to me...

Sweet sixteen her first schools dance

Oh where did the years go by?

“Will anyone dance with me?” She asks me why

“Patience, my dear soon enough!”

They said you were wild

I said you were free

They said you wouldn’t listen

I said you would to me.....

Young girl grew into womanhood

And marriage she did go

Love came and love went

Finally one true love endured....

The beautiful bride looked

Towards her mother

“Can I make a marriage work?”

“Patience, my dear, patience, soon enough”

Mom it’s Valentine’s Day

I want you here with me

I feel like a litle girl

That I want to be

Will I ever be able to see you again?

In the heavenly skies....

A cold autumn day, the last leaves

Falling from the trees

Tears falling like rain

It was to be...

“Mom when will I ever see you again?

This is Baby Starr, looking for you”

Soft upon the wind came the reply

“Patience, my Starr, soon enough, soon enough!"....


Copyright © Brooke Dylan | Year Posted 2014

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In quiet anticipation, Daphne carefully sewed
tiny outfits of love for her soon to be child.
With her soft braided hair and loose, faded clothes
Daphne sung lullabies, then stared off for awhile.

When her due date came, we wished Daphne well
for our small sewing circle was caring and kind
Daphne looked embarrassed, but was happy to tell
that she'd show us her baby at just the right time.

About a month later, sweet Daphne appeared
gently cradling her sleeping, angelic little girl
With a hushed adoration, we all drew near her
and beheld the most beautiful baby in the world.

When the ladies dispersed, I asked Daphne if I
could hold her new baby, I'd hold her with care
with a brief hesitation, she said, "Just a short while"
her perfect, silicone baby was lighter than air.

Written on 5/26/2016

Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2016

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Evil Intent

Vile creatures write bibles in a hole
Cursed with powers out of control
To take what is not theirs, that is the goal
Satanic smiles saved for such occasions

In seclusion they build commandments 
Create wars, massacre the masses, laugh
In their souls darkness starts with madness
Intentions are so simple posed in words 

Babies cry out from their protected womb    
Evil hears them long before their birth
Sprinkled like fairy dust the demons come
Disarming in charm, there to lead them on

Fresh to the taste of life in air the infants take
Breathe their first breath through labor pain
Laid bare and frankly, dangerous
They scream out loud for no apparent reason

Monstrous men are there to give them death 
Stalin knew how to butcher thoroughly
Five million at a time, his own people died
He takes the cake for killings in the millions

But one creature stands alone in mass murder scored
So much for Socialism and history recorded
Who controls the agriculture in the land of China
And the movement that caused a curse on all humanity  

Down to the last dead babies soul left in the soil
“The Great Leap Forward” mass starvation stands alone
Fresh from the womb into the arms of doom forever 
Chairman Mao Zedong is that master, the face of evil ever after

Created on 6/23/16 for - “Evil Is Everywhere” Poetry Contest- Sponsored by: Brian Davey

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016

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Angel in the Amnion

In this dream I held a doll, yet an empty shell 
Your soul filled it with life; I felt the quickening
The next week mom felt your tiny wings fluttering 
Unforeseen test results turned our heaven to hell

A needle through her abdomen, wife's jaw gritted 
Tiny form bouncing on the screen, as if in play
Needle entered your sanctum; you pushed it away
Tiny hands, yet so deliberate—you hit it!

When you say formless dread can sink into your bones
Is it so crazy that my conscience becomes torn?
Did we wound you deep even before you were born?
Was it the needle violating your first home?

Iambic hexameter quatrains: abba cddc effe
For contest: The Alphabet Contest, Letter A

Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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Tears For Angel Above

Tears for my little angel that dwells above, my baby boy left before he had time to see the sky; we dressed him in his ivory christening gown, and we lay him in his coffin, now forever I will cry. _________________ March 21, 2016 Quatrain/Tears For Angel Above Copyright Protected, ID 770593 Shortform Standard Contest Brian Strand

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

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Your Baby Charms

Snuggled close to my breasts
you stir within my arms.
And begin to wiggle
plying your baby charms.

Your wriggling and squirming
brings a smile to my heart.
For holding you's magic
and has been from the start.

Hush now my sweet angel
there is nothing to fear.
For I will stay with you
till your tears disappear.

Your mommy’s ecstatic
smiling from ear to ear.
So close those weary eyes
and go to sleep my dear.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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The Sound of Love

Lying in the cold sterile room
Tentatively tracing a soft pattern on the chair.
My husband’s ashen face
Staring blankly at the bleached white walls.

Calming myself with each breath
Waiting patiently for the news.
She slowly enters with a kind smile
Immediately I feel my anxiety weaken. 

She looks at the intimidating screen
Suddenly the frantic sound fills the room
The sound I will never forget, but long to hear again
The sound of a thrashing propeller somehow submerged in water. 

The screen becomes a transparent window
For the first time we gawk at our child.
How I have prayed and imagined seeing him.
How I have worried for everything to be alright. 

We entered with unspoken concerns
Leaving with joyous hearts 
Proof of our little child
Growing healthy with the strong sound of love.

Copyright © Carol Talanges | Year Posted 2013

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Leaves That Are Green

A young bud sprouts from its parent plant
and blossoms to a lovely rose before long
With time, its beauty fades and it dries up
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A young sapling takes root and flourishes
Soon a mighty oak stands firm on the ground
With time, it decays to a dried up old tree
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A baby bird sitting helplessly in its nest
grows into a majestic eagle strong
With time, its glory fades as it ages
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A defenceless lion cub hidden in its lair
matures into the mightiest beast around
With time, he becomes a decrepit old male
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

A beautiful angelic darling baby girl
becomes a world beauty and wins the crown
With time, wrinkles and old age take their toll
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

Hello to a new life of hope and promise
Goodbye to a life that's now going down
Time marches on irreversibly 
and the leaves that are green turn to brown

All life starts off fresh and beautiful, matures, decays and then passes away in an unavoidable cycle as Time marches on irreversibly.

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2014

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Cupid's Diaper Rash

As Cupid came on streaming through
the sky in great repose.
The friction caught him by surprise
in every sense Helios.

To solve the problem he would think
"How can I keep my cool?"
And with a nod and with a wink
proved he was no one's fool.

He sprinkled powder on his diaper.
The kind the heroes use.
Then with a jump went head-long up
and set about to cruise.

So when you look to Cupid now,
as one who would fly by.
Remember that his frightening speed
has left him safe and dry.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2016

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Cupid's M16

Cupid opened up and fired
a full out M-16.
When everyone dropped dead and down
to such a horrid scene.

The Pope came by
and gave his blessings.
That's all that he could do.
Then Castro phoned to offer peace
and share cigar or two.

But Cupid wasn't there to listen.
cupid shot to kill.
He knew their lovers were in Heaven
and shot with lead to fill.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2016

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The Baby Fawn

A baby fawn leaps into the meadow,
I hold my breath and try not to scare.
I watch in beauty as she grazes,
And smile as she becomes aware.

She stares at me intensley,
Eyes deep with young innocence.
She slowley goes back to her grazing,
Her ears flickering to my presence.

She takes a sip from the stream,
Before she frolicks toward the trees.
She looks back at me one last time,
Then hops through the autumn leaves.

An emptyness sets inside me,
For now the fawn is gone,
Left out all on her own,
To defend herself towards harm.

To know i can't protect her,
Sets my stomach in unease.
But I tell myself she's happy,
As free as the flowing breeze.

Because sometimes to hold on,
Can hurt the one you love,
And even the sadness of her being gone,
She will be pain free from up above.

Copyright © Catherine Adams | Year Posted 2009

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Such Grace

I hold my baby in my arms
and look upon his face,
why have I, no reason why, 
been showered with such grace.

This precious life, sleeping now,
deep peace and oh so still,
just watching him I'm filled so full,
my love for him so real.

It's then I break and softly weep,
suprising me, a man's man,
but even while it slowly flows
I'm thankful that I can.

Because you see, this precious child,
the last of this man's eight,
was cut from mother's womb one day,
in unplanned twist of fate.

Mom and babe so near had died
and left me lone with brood,
but grace instead was given me
and lifted dark laid mood!

So there it is, perhaps you see
why tears drip down my face.
For why have I, no reason why,
been showered with such grace.

Copyright © HighWave Brian | Year Posted 2015

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In deep of night, I sink into pain’s hell
That fingers bang heavily without calm,
Where staring violets cannot foretell,
How near or far I'll be from sorrow’s harm.

While flickers of stars descend on relay
My newborn child lies cold, grim buds prevail,
And breaths endure the ache from evening’s slay
Questioning heaven, I begin to wail.

And as I droop wearily in bent form,
This flat-line succumbs to reality,
While beads of prayer clatter like a storm 
Angst rising, my jailed heart a misery.

Contest of Eve Roper: Second Chance N/A May 2016
Posted 5/23/2016
Resubmitted 6/3/2016

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

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Her country a war zone, where death was the king, She held her baby in arms, left for unknown land, Followed the crowd, and walked miles after miles, Hunger and thirst became curse, couldn't withstand. Her baby cried, closed his eyes, she felt his last breath, She walked with the dead baby in her arms and wept, When her limbs couldn't bear the weight of the dead, She gave him a sand burial, forever her child slept. So distressed and helpless, tears rolled from her eyes, She knew she would never return to her child's grave, With dead heart, she silently left followed the crowd, Even the angels wept, they no more pretended brave. May 5, 2016. EVEN THE ANGELS WEPT - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: John lawless Melancholy - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
Please read: In August 2014, attack by the separatists on Yazidis in Sinjar, Iraq, was a massacre. Fleeing civil war, there were hundreds of thousands running toward the mountain. Many of the men were killed, small children, the sick and elderly were carried until their relatives collapsed from exhaustion. People died of thirst, and there was no food or water. Corpses were left on the roadside, unburied. Mothers had to leave their babies behind.

Copyright © Meenakshi Raina | Year Posted 2016

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My Privilege

The bassinets in line before the window… Little packages of hope for the human race, Through the glass the reflection of love.. The ever-hopeful cycle of man taking place. Every little face beloved by eyes that see The babe, the child, the promise of the young. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker.. Each of these children a precious song to be sung. To watchful eyes the daily scene unfolds, To the nurse the proud privilege of the day. To care for new life with love and faith.. And safely send each one on its life’s way.
Barbara Gorelick-It was my privilege to work in the nursery for over 20 yrs. The best job I ever loved

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2013

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The pink of a rosebud,
the sky’s delicate blue,
softness of a kitten’s fur,
freshness of morning dew.

Warmth of winter’s firelight,
the laughter of the sea,
golden glow of sunlight’s ray,
song sparrow’s sweet melody.

Promise of the rainbow,
the future’s treasured dream,
fragrance of spring’s blossom,
beauty of woodland’s stream.

All the earth’s sweet joys
and heaven’s mystery too,
embraced in this new life
God has given to you.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

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More Agony

My friend I want you to know
 That happy for you I am
As before the coming snow
 You will have a baby in a pram.

Your shower today was nice
 I thought I could handle it.
But my heart is not ice
 For jeaousy I feel this I admit.

I feel like a loon
 My babies gone
No lullabies to croon
 No being woke at dawn.

I thought I could handle this
 Be here for my dear friend
But there is gaping abyss
 And I do not want to offend.

This your day to shine
 And do well to not frown
And to not even let out a whine
 Though in sorrow I drown.

I leave the shower
 My wounds to lick.
In my own space cower
 Pain in my heart does stick.

I am now alone 
 I lay here and cry.
In agony I moan
 And in misery I sigh.

I really am a lousy friend.
 For how can I feel sad?
How can I make amends
 and tell you why I am bad?

No more baby showers for me
 I cannot do this
To much pain for this to be
 For me there is no bliss.

My arms do so ache
 For the babies that are mine.
How much more pain can I take?
 How much longer will I pine?

Can anyone understand
 What I truly am?
A mother in no man's land
 Whose tears have broke the dam.

A mother who misses 
 Her children each day.
I miss thier kisses,
 Their bedlam and fun way.

Why can I not heal?
 Why must agony sear
And my fate and theirs seal
 For this I do fear.

I thought I was doing good
 But as you can see
This pain gets me where I stood
 And still gets the best of me.

Copyright © Kristy De La Keur Scoveille | Year Posted 2009