Loss Child Poems

These Loss Child poems are examples of Loss poems about Child. These are the best examples of Loss Child poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet |
 


The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.

He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap

The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and  asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?

The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took

They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.

Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess

When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.

But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there

He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go

She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took

He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.

But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead

The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?

Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2011




Details | Free verse |
like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come 

dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy, with goals
beyond our reach...beyond belief
beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space, we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home...

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we vow...to hold back all the tears for now


                for, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it
      __________________________________________





4/12/13

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Clutched tight to my chest, the doll smiles lifelessly
sending vacant stares down the darkened hall.
A solitary line of pink light sneaks through a crack in the door.
Fighting tears hanging loosely in my eyes, I listen.
 
“Please tell daddy that I love him and miss him.”
It has been two months since he died. Long, hard months.
“Keep him safe.”
His smell still lingers on his clothes in the closet.
“and bless mommy to be happy…”
How can I be happy, or even smile, when all I want is to be numb?
The tears burn in my eyes, but I can’t cry, or I might never stop.
“so that she will play with me like she used to”
I can scarcely recall the last time I was able to focus; to give her all my attention.
“help her to forgive me,”
Oh sweet baby, it’s I who needs your forgiveness.
“help her to love me again, even though sometimes I’m bad”
Oh God, is that what she thinks!?
“and please help me to find dolly so she won’t be scared tonight”
Ok, focus…just breathe.
“in Jesus name I pray, Amen.”

Clutched tight to my chest, the doll smiles lifelessly
sending vacant stares into the room lit by a solitary pink lamp.
I sneak through the door, with tears rolling down my cheeks,
and enter with a promise, that all her prayers will get answered.

05/31/15

Submission for Prayertime Memories
Hosted by Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015




Details | Pantoum |
Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.

Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.

Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.

We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.



Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
We are so different

I am smart, you are less so
I am a man, you are a woman
I am trump, you are poor
I am beautiful, you live in a sewer
I have castles, you’re lucky to have drawers
I am peaceful, you are the extremist
I have armies, you have child suicide bombers
I have coffee, you have tea
See the difference between you and me?

I wear clothes under my head, you wear masks over
I sing songs in my sanctuary, while you chant the jihad
I have my god who is righteous; you have a god that sings of terror
My god is great, yours is a fraud
I ride in a limo, you ride a gay camel
I drink fine whiskey, you smoke camel fags
We you see… are as different
As night is to day
As sun is to moon
As Cain is to Abel
I own the castle you live in the stable
Goats and hogs your only staple

Now when we were in the hospital
Me so much better than you, you see
Both our sons sick of leukemia
You being so different and less than me
You cried, and you wept, and you wished yourself dead
If your child should live, you'd give all you ever had
Its then I saw, I’d do exactly the same
When you offered me a tissue
I confess I felt a wee little shame
Whatever hate you may or may not have had
Lifted, when you saw the child was your only lad
And when I saw this humble startling revelation
I realized how narrow and condescending I was behaving
So maybe we both learned a lesson of Job
A pity such sadness and pain had to bring
The realization to us both
We are not so different after all 

We now drink tea in the olive gardens
Telling the young if they chose to listen
There is a better path, of happier wisdom
By embracing your fellow man
No matter race, color or convictions
Start with a smile
Make it last more than a mile
Great things happen
When us, the people take action
Yours truly
Two fathers
Of this world


Thank you Charmaine for the constant inspiration!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
She was at her window listening to the rain
Mind just wandering, immersed in pain
She was wondering if it was true that angels cry
Each time they see a child die

They took some tests but it was too late
It was in an area they couldn't operate
She smiled at him and hid her fear
They said at most another year

How much pain can a mother endure?
To look at her son and know there is no cure
There are no words that can even start
To soothe the pain in her broken heart

The days and nights went quickly past
The time had come he would breathe his last
Her faith was put to the supreme test
The day she laid her child to rest

She is alone and prays each day
The memory will forever stay
Sometimes in her prayers she just asks why
And she wonders if the angels cry.


           From the book Voices of Hope.. Thank you Crystal.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
My body is a graveyard.
I buried you inside this defective womb.
I am less than a woman.
My flesh a fertile tomb.
Tiny ghost.
I will never hold you.

My baby is crying.
My baby is crying and no one can hear their haunting wail but me.
Night after night.
Hush now.
Shhh, 
Momma loves you.
Inviting this emotional decay,
I am damaged.

My heart is in the ground with you, dear one. 
This body betrayed me.
The space between these hips, 
Now an empty cradle.
That gentle heartbeat,
Faltered,
Ceased.

I am always with you.
Child,
Deceased.
My soul gently rocks you,
As you sleep.
When the fragile heart stops beating,
Are you still called mother?

Copyright © Nadia Steel | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
Now I lay here with an empty bottle of pills by my side.
It was just too much to hide.
My little brother found me on my bathroom floor.
He went screaming out the door.
The ambulance came and I heard voices fading away.
I can still make out what they say.
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
Now I lay in a hospital bed.
He can’t hurt you anymore the nurse said.
Thank god the gun box was locked.
Now theirs a knock.
The cops came in and said my sister talked.
They said after what my father did he will never walk.
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
He came in my room at night.
Something’s a child just cant fight.
Tired of living with this dirty feeling.
Tired of all together feeling.
Why Daddy Why?
Why would you make me cry, lie, and all-together die?
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
Mom didn’t know.
She said it wasn’t my fault and beyond my control.
They said there were more.
They just were scared to come forward before.
Now I’m on the stand facing a child molester.
The lawyer asks my father.
Why would a 12-year girl want to die?
What would make a 12-year-old girl end her life?
Why would a 12-year-old girl want to say goodbye?
What did you do that was so bad that your daughter wanted to die?

Copyright © Jeanette Huston | Year Posted 2005

Details | Marsiya |
Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |
That disturbed child
The teen girl with no friends, 
and is rejected by her loved ones
She feels broken inside,
like theres no other choice
She takes the iron razor, 
she puts it to her arm and hopes the pain will fade,
but in the end it only makes her feel worse
She does this to herself not because she is sad, 
but because she doesn't think any one cares
She thinks 
What if I put this razor to my throat,
and ended my life
Would they care then?
She feels like no one cares 
What she doesn't realize is, 
if she died a river of tears would come,
even faster then the blood would run from her
If she only knew life can be brighter 
If she would only see, 
that she is loved
That disturbed child, 
We miss her
and theres no getting her back
What could we have done
Was there any changing her mind
Only God knows

Copyright © Trevor Bain | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |
Your face and rotting teeth and heavy jowls
         and sunken breasts with bulging waist and
         wooden legs
         betray
Your image of laughter, lovemaking, seeking
         bourbon tweaked philosophies
         of life begins
         at  forty.
The hands that tremble as you tilt
         the glass that begins another
         day of
Tirade thoughts, empty lies, money spent on
         lipstick coated leeches who prey on
         your diminishing
         breath.

Through these wintry days pass faces long past
         into what was then
              while with the coming spring ...
                       at last!  at last!
One can remember
         and want no more 
              what could never be:
                      a Mother.

Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
Watching leaves cartwheel down
we meet at the bench
tucked under the trees, in the park

Unable to speak
I am feeling a squeeze in my breast
My emotions are clenched
with years of unrest
since that day that I left, empty armed

Still weak in the knees
I must sit while I watch 
this child, once mine,
sit cross-legged, in light
of the late August sun

His fingers unpeel
the paper, and twine
from the gift I have brought
from a little gift shop 
that I passed when I walked in the night

With the package undone,
he smiles up at me
and I see in his eyes
the wholeness of him
	
And I am strangled to say
the words that I could….
Would  I tell him the things
that would empty those eyes
of a soft place to land ?

Now he grabs for the hand
of the mother he knows
and I thank her with eyes
before I must go

I must leave him to her
and not say the words
that would follow him home for all time

I have broken away
any hold that I had
except for the one
that chokes out the sun
on a hot August day
in the late afternoon

A leaf tumbles down, then is swept by the breeze
Only here for a moment, then gone

___________________________________________________
A Fictional Poem Based On Contest: "Long Lost Family"

8/15/16
And for Contest: Personal Best of 2016
Sponsored by Frank Herrera

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Acrostic |
I s a child to be heard?
N o one answers, as usual. The silence is slowly killing me.
S orrow, misunderstanding and these mourning memories,
I s this the way it is supposed to be? Since that fateful day, I have been a 
G irl, lost in a whirl of tragic past, calamitous present and the fear of having no future,
N ever have I known what "family", "friends" or "fiends" mean, for
I have never made or heard of any.
F or I am thirteen, just as inconsequential as a dwarf planet, amongst boundless galaxies.
I live in misery, why won't anyone listen to me? I may be young, but I
C an converse, listen and see, and I
A m as normal as you are. So why
N ot give me a chance to prove myself?
C an you ever give me a listening
E ar? Is a child to be heard?

Copyright © Ashley Ho | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

Sweet Rosalia was here with me
but for a year and a day
when we strolled the cliff beside the sea
to see the oceans spray

Sweet bairn of mine did laugh and clap
to see a butterfly
she reached her hand when broke the strap
fell from the cliff to die

Poor child of mine made not a peep
when fell unto the rocks
I pulled her from the watery deep
my bairn with sable locks

Such deep lament pooled off my face
she cradled in my arms
the tumble left none of a trace
the blow that did her harm

I could not bare to cover her
in mother natures brown
nor place on her the white death fleur
in cold and darkened ground

So Rosalia I did place
inside a glass top bed
forever more you'll see her face
whilst sadly she lay dead

I could not bear such deep repine
my heart could not erase
when saw the child did break my mind
wrapped in inky Seas embrace

My Deep lament would not erase
visions of my darling drowned
So I stepped unto the cold cliff face
And flung my body down

Copyright © shaunda lindsay | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
Your going has left a hole in my heart that time,
The Great Healer, cannot repair.
Your going has left a hole in my existence
That forever and beyond will not heal,
A hole ever expanding from its own nothingness,
A hole through which all the goodness,
All the kindness of you is slipping through.
You were my sounding board.
Trite ideas offered, came back
Enhanced, brilliant and sparkling.
Borrowing intelligence from you, I grew wiser.
Doors opened before me as I strove to be worthy
Of you, my beloved son.
I go on now as you would have me do,
Searching in Nature for the joy 
You found in its wonders.
Hearing bird songs with your ears,
Relating to others with your empathetic instincts.
Striving, ever striving to be the person
And mother that you believed me to be
And never letting your memory grow dim
For those you loved and for whom you sacrificed.

You came into this world with a wisdom
That did not come from me.
I thank God each day for His lending you to me
For the time that I had you near
And I cling to His promise
That I will see you again.

I could not tell from whence you came,
Born with a wisdom that did not come from me,
And I do not know where you have gone,
Part of myself, the better part--into Eternity.

Originally entered as verse

Rewritten:

A Letter to my Son

Your going has left a hole in my heart
That Time, that great healer cannot repair.
Your going  left  space in my existence
That forever and more will still be there.

Ever expanding from it nothingness
A hole from which your goodness has slipped through.
The kindnesses you wore as a halo
Have disappeared as well since I lost you.

I used you as a sounding boad to measure
The wisdom and the beauty of the world.
Your ideas were so clear and brilliant,
Through you my own best aptitudes unfurled.

I'm trying to live up to your standards.
I want to be more worthy of you, Son.
You told me once I was the perfect mother,
And with you life was such a lot of fun.

I thank God every day for loan of you.
The time we had was more than worth the pain.
And now I'm clinging tight to his promise
That some day I will see you once again. 

I do not know from whence you came,
Blessed with wisdom  that did not come from me.
Each day I pray I know where you have gone;
Taking my heart into Eternity.




Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2009

Details | Tanka |




                                         Standing in Heaven
                                  a small voice calling my name
                                          the image is small
                                     I'm sorry God needed me 
                                    my child who was not born




by Michael J Falotico
Dedicated to all who have
lost a child before or after
birth...

Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet |
When I try to look back, it hurts to start A mother I was now in continual broken heart In the innocence of that Sunday quietly shopping away When my thoughts to humanity go in angered astray One minute he held my hand, the next he was gone In suspended silence I float amidst stared public throng Questions through confusion as to where I stood last Still feeling his hand, that loving maternal grasp Lights became brighter, louder were the voices Still confusion abounds in sporadic lost choices Who could have taken him, where has he gone So many voices not singing the same song Continually I dream about these words you've just read To the end of my days I can't think of him dead <*>

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
I look in the mirror,

I gaze at my eyes and see my soul,

No longer a pure shimmery white light I once had as a child,

Now it is stained with red ink,

Absorb inside my skin,

Like water soaking into the earth,

Not even my atonements can wash away the blood.

So now my soul stays poisoned, 

With the evil destruction of my past, 

And the beautiful white moon I once had, 

Has disappeared, Tainted the black holes of sin, 

Though light overcomes darkness, 

I still see the discolor of my soul, 

And the infinity of its presence, 

Lurking in the dark, like a bat in a cave, 

So now I stay longing for the once untouched purity of my soul, 

That has now vanished without a trace of a memoir...........

Copyright © Jamecia Buggs | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric |
    "I think of you
     While sun and moon renew
     I will always think of you"

I sit so still and eat 
A sandwich and I talk to you
I am so angry at
Everything they did to you
Scream loud at the sun
At that sky too perfect, blue

At night I'm warm in bed
Hope that you rest peaceful too
My every word of love
Reach through hollow wind, renew
my love and hope and pain
Forever reach the soul of you

     "I dream of you
     With stars raining tears on me
     I will always dream of you"

I pray to stars above
To the mourning morning dew
To find you in my corners
Fading evading me and you
Your face, its smile so broad
I won't forget, I’ll go there too. 

I yell loud at the moon
The dark clouds in a sky once blue
That took you far too soon
Away from me, your life from you
You rest now while I sleep
I'll find you in soft morning hues

     "I dance with you
     I slowly dance...
     I will always dance with you"

***

April 23, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
The night shone for the full moon,
Sky brewing a coarse monsoon,
Bolted were windows, locked were doors,
The frequency of death frighteningly soared.
But who was this infant high upon the hill?
He denied the storm and just stood stone still,
Eyes shut like blinds and fingers dug into ground,
Felt he could move no muscle, for was sadly street bound.
Shutting his eyes, arms wrapped tight round
His skinny body, battered and browned
Praying for the sake of friends, family and all
However imaginary, he imagined them call
 “Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry, remember our love”
Joining their gaze in the beyond above,
He softly mumbled a song to forget,
The once daily song that was always a duet,
Alone on that hill without any feel,
Of an afterlife he finally accepted, wasn’t real
Tears met the floor, now bathed in yellow light,
As lightning struck him too quick to fright,
Child lay on the floor, dismembered and black,
Though his mouth was smiling and his happiness had come back,
As re-joined with family, head held high, 
He waved his tortured existence goodbye.
Hugging his mum and his dad the same,
Somehow put an end to the incessant rain,
The natives emerged from their homes, safe and sound,
The boy crying for happiness at the new life he had found.
Soul peering at his body, dead at age eleven,
Holding family’s hands they could finally pass on and join heaven. 
The touch of their skin brought old emotion,
 Parents who were torn betwixt war and devotion,
A child whom they gave their best shot,
By train to board and bomb to not.
The grave of the boy with the electric crown,
Who carried a burden he couldn’t live down,
Stood proud in the yard of cobbles and stones,
For everyone knew those were a heroes bones,
When you look into the sky on a stormy night,
Remind yourself of the boy’s plight.
As he is the clouds that damper weather,
Out to protect his town, children altogether,
He wanted a life for them around,
That didn’t consist of being mentally wound,
A life that he could never possess,
But he did not bathe in spiralling depress.
Life is sacred, upon that hill,
Those cobbles and stones bring great goodwill,
For the sun only shines on that grassy land,
Still holding marks of the boy’s humble hand,
Some say that the yearly rain,
Is him up above, the tears of a chain.
The chain of the tears shed on that night,
Of the fear and happiness’ conventional recite,
Up above, being tucked under the covers,
Is a little boy with an injury he recovers,
Mother kisses his head and says her goodnight,
Father over bed, comforting a nightmare fright.
Drifting off, the boy could hear,
A little rhyme to calm his fear,
“Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry remember our love-“
The young man rose slowly in his bed,
Opened his eyes and smiled as he said
“I’m here”

Copyright © Nichola Vincent | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
I bent my mind around her ideas
became engrossed by playful words
Yet the thoughts were so horrific
my tears flowed and eyes were blurred 
Sandbox baby playing
laughter and childish sounds
the weight of pain enormous
as a parent's joy turned into frowns

Sandbox baby oh so precious 
is society to blame
The blur of pretty pictures
on dumb-phones adults play games
But the boogie man he's a watching
invisible to mommies sight
no one really expects him
When skies are shining bright

He snatches away her precious
a day that was filled with smiles
In the matter of just a few moments
Her sandbox baby is far from her eyes
Sobs of her desperation
as the rest hold their babies tight
thank God it wasn't them
still not a one will rest this night

The playground now seems broken
the sandcastles have turned to dust
The swings in the wind are swinging 
we watch as metal turns to rust
The ghost of sand box baby
A nightmare birthed destroyed her dream
Laughter that once had been gifted
makes way for an endless scream!

When the taker is so cruel
try not to judge the ones we see
Know that it could easily happen
pray to God not you or me
Everyone has their distractions 
pain of regret they didn't save
Watch for the distracted watchers
help sandbox baby avoid the grave!


Inspired by Casarah Nance's poem titled "Sandbox Baby" please read her outstanding piece!!








Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Lost amongst the tattered ruins of yesterdays dreams I wander uncertain of my own fate. Screams in the distance pull me back from the edge of loneliness.

 I hold onto the pain to stay alive.

Cruelty is my companion as i journey to a destiny yet to be revealed. Strength escapes me on the coldest of nights huddled alone with my memories. The tears fall drowning the giggles that once filled my ears. His face a distant longing. I almost wonder if he was ever there at all.

The pitter patter of tiny foot steps echo in my fears.

Please I wish for them to leave me, and yet I so cherish their haunting lullaby so I can remember what it is to feel joy.

My son you are lost, but I will find you. 
A mothers love never dies.

Copyright © Ashley Dibble | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
I can't remember if the sun was shining
Or if the clouds looked down on me as I stood 
A child of ten standing on a window sill 
Whispering to himself he should

It started shortly after I woke
Distant where the trigger was
I'm guessing just the overflow
of everything they did and said

Finally ground down by all around
And though I'd fought for years 
Death becomes a friend
When she's the only one there for you

Knowing I would soon be in the playground 
Where no nurse could make better the names they cruelled 
Knowing my mothers boyfriend was down stairs 
Waiting for his latest vile whim to unfold

My mind consumed by every name called
I was not the same they proved 
Alone in my crowded thoughts
T o death I looked for belonging

As I dressed my imagination dreamt
What could happen today? 
Exploding into the unknown 
My strength rapidly dissolved
I could see no directions 
that didn't lead to another painful day

As my journey to the end begun
All they told me loading the gun
All that made me different from
Pushing me closer and closer to the edge of no return

In front of the mirror I stood
Cut off my curly hair
No longer the golliwog
That their taunts would compare

I covered my skin in talcum powder
As I didn't want to be
That horrible thick coon
he always called me.

My hair a mess
My colour unmasked
Tired, Frightened, alone,
I decided enough, enough

Standing on the window sill
The last bastion for survival colliding inside 
As the exhausted wishes to hang on
Were overcome by the desperation to escape this hollow excuse for life

No single tear a cry for help
As id learnt they choose not to hear
I urge myself towards an end to the hurt
where the crying would clear

As I engulf my mind in my final moments
And call for death to take my hand 
From across the road a woman called 
To this day she probably doesn't know she saved my life

Tears unintentionally
Created rivers down talcum powdered cheeks
But my mother didn't laugh 
when she found me

I guess that's where you'd expect everything to be made right 
I guess that's where I learnt to no longer believe
Through every promising word in the wake of what could 
They didn't do what they should

Copyright © Christopher Wellbelove | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme |
Dear child I know we never met
I’ve never seen your smile.
But God asked me to pray for you
for just a little while.

I got the news just late today
last night was when you left.
One week was all I had to give
before your final breath.

The Comforter I sent to you
several times a day.
I urged He go with healing hand
each time that I would pray.

His Spirit pressed into my soul
a child I never knew.
From pools beneath my folded hands
my tears He brought to you.

He said with faith, His pleasure found
my faith not strong enough.
But from my prayers for you, dear child
I found a strength of love.

Olivia, I fear I failed
dear child of only eight.
And now you walk on streets of gold
beyond a pearly gate.

I have a void I cannot fill.
Love found on bended knee.
I ask while walking there with God
if you could pray for me.

I love a child I never met
Nor have I seen her smile.
But God asked me to wait for her
for just a little while.

Copyright © Teresa Altman | Year Posted 2007

Details | Quatrain |
A small grave, and for it's weeds was bare
with only a handmade wooden cross.
Easy to see that a child rest there.
Poor unloved young soul was my first thought.

Well I read this cross, for this child of grief.
"John my young son so frail and fair
my joy, my love, my life I leave
to the arms of your mother and Lord's care."

The back read; "To doctors all my money I gave
I cannot buy even a simple stone
with a borrowed spade, I have dug your grave,
I carve this marker, and am now alone."

That wooden cross, seemed to rise
high above great marble markers.
Thoughts rush my mind as I realized
the pain this poor man's heart had harbored.

Never again his son he will see
knowing his child would rests under cold ground.
As unkempt as this grave seemed to be, 
with it's wooden cross and it’s weeds all around.

I pulled at those weeds with my bare hand
then my flowers I laid at the foot of that cross.
I prayed "Please God, help me understand" 
as I felt the pain of another man's loss.

Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
Mister,
Why did you hit Mommy?

Mister,
You can't punish me,
You're not my daddy!

Mister, 
You say not to hit,
But your actions declare you a hypocrite.

Mister,
You push Mommy down,
But you say not to tell unless I say she fell.

Mister,
I try my darnedest to be good,
But you say I'm not action like I should.

Mister,
You hurt my feelings,
But you say you're just teaching me something with meaning.

Mister,
You come home with more than just Mommy,
But you say I saw nothing

Mister,
The night you came home drunk,
You know the night you shot Mommy with a shotgun . . . 
The night you left her beaten, bruised, scarred,
Bleeding on the ground. . . 
The night she went to sleep and never woke up

That night I was left alone,
Helpless,
Nowhere to go.

Mister,
Why did you do it
When you said you loved Mommy?

Mister, 
Why did you leave me stranded 
When you said you cared about me?

Mister,
Because of you
I am left here to die
Beside this dumpster where you told me to lye.

Mister,
I've been waiting here like you said,
For days,
Weeks,
Months,
But you r face I have not seen

You have let me down, Mister,
But that is nothing new.

You always told me to be a good child,
So I will.
With what's left of me, 
I will wait,
Calling your name . . . 

Mister . . . ?
Mister . . . ?



Copyright © Amanda Gough | Year Posted 2007

Details | Sonnet |
Magical Mountain Made Of Whitest Stone

Majestic mountain made of magic stone
I climbed every night as a lonely child.
Tall and regal, it stood there all alone
symbol of world so fantastic and wild!

Atop its peak in my racing night dreams
looking across earth's fantastic skies.
Resting below, forests and flowing streams
bright, magical realm where nobody dies.

Deep within each night's visionary quest
prayers for family, sleeping nearby.
Young, brave climber daring courageous best
with fantasy and thrills on each climb's try!

Magical mountain made of whitest stone.
Conquered by a child, made of flesh and bone!

R. J. Lindley
March 9th, 1971

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 94 

(Old) Note: How I long again to be that innocent child from two years ago, living with warmest embrace of my father's love before his death...
Life just suxs and tries to destroy me...


New note: Life again sent its deepest blues, but old age has brought wisdom, those blues and accompanying depths of pain - that--
Can reach out to destroy,
yet only find a stronger heart
For this soul tis no longer an innocent boy
that had no well lit path to now  chart.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
Staring head on in the face
What is happening in each corner of this dreadful place
I don’t want to say rather me that you
I wish there was something I could do
Children for sale just isn’t right
Buts its happening day and night 

Copyright © R Kumari | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |
The child was lost
Through no fault of mine
I wanted to have it
But it wasn't the right time
I hid my emotions
I didn't want to mourn
But I couldn't help it
It didn't want to be born
I didn't tell a single person
Until a long time after
Then someone close to me
Went and told the father
I'd had a miscarriage
And he didn't even care
If the child had been born
He wouldn't have been there
After he'd been told
And he talked to me
I cried for days on end
But my tears no one had seen
I shut myself away
And hid inside my room
I lay cuddling a teddy
I held it against my womb
But years have passed
I think I'm over it now
I know it never developed
But I still miss it somehow

Copyright © Joelle Zanotti | Year Posted 2008

Details | Rhyme |
When I was just just a little girl I thought I knew it all 
But as the years passed by I have never felt so small 
I never knew what life would be like without you teaching me 
But now I'm lost and am scared but there's no way to flee 
Dad I know you'd want me to be happy and I know you'd want me to smile 
But losing you has confused my soul and set me back awhile 
We were just becoming closer, becoming the best of friends 
I know we had many disagreements but in the end we made amends 
I miss you everyday and cry when I'm alone 
I'm lost inside with nowhere to hide I wish that I had known 
Life is different now I feel guilty to laugh and sing 
I know it shouldn't be that way but you were my everything 
I looked up to you for guidance, for strength, for love, for hope 
But in the end you'll always be my best friend and in time I'll learn to cope 
It's almost been three years dad and life has knocked me down 
It's beaten me up, bruised my heart, and tossed me all around 
But life has also brought a brand new meaning 
From diaper changes, little coos, and the occasional screaming 
From I love you's, to bedtime kisses, all the way to morning messes 
From pacifiers, to baby swings, and little tiny frilly things 
Baby baths, little naps, apple juice, and diaper bags 
Cuddles, tantrums, spills, and cuts 
So much sass it's driving me nuts 
The stress, the love, this life that I chose 
Could only get better the more that they grow 
My heart is so full, this much is true 
The only thing my life could ever need now is you.

Copyright © Jessica Jones | Year Posted 2017