Best Losschild Poems
" My Precious Son "
God has sent me a little angel
from his heavens up above
this angel born to be my baby
a precious son for me to love.
His arrival was way too early
premature three months of time
I did not even get to hold him
this precious child of mine.
For three months and lonely nights
in a glass box my child lay
I could watch him through a window
he was just seven feet away.
They would leave my child naked
his body was totally bare
I wished that I were his blanket
to protect and warm him there.
He was poked and always prodded
my poor child knew no rest
I ached to reach out and hold him
to snuggle him against my chest.
They would not let me near him
saying nothing could be done
they were following medical protocol
and I could not touch my son.
Heartbroken as I stood by helpless
my son grew too tired to cry
always watching him through that window
I watched my young son die.
Seeing his chest stop moving
I watched his last full breath
he turned his head and looked at me
and closed his eyes in death.
A nurse wrapped her arms around me
as she took me from that scene
the last time that I saw him
laying so beautiful and serene.
They were lowering his bright white coffin
that was lined with velvet blue
My Precious Son I love you
its god who wanted you.
So many years have passed now
his memory still lives today
My Precious Son I love you
we'll be together one day...
Penned By MPK
Quote: Life Is Poetry In Motion, Great Poets Reflect Emotion…
Quote: The Best And Most Beautiful Thing In The World Can’t Be Seen Or Touched
It Must Be Felt With Your Heart…
NOTE: This poem was composed many years ago for a wonderful young family that was
grieving their loss with the hopes of offering them some comforting love from a friend. The
poem was received well and still sits upon the wall above their bed...
The child looked down a dim stairwell,
heard the sound of feet
against a hollow metal he could tell,
he peered into the darkness as he could feel the heat,
shadows glanced over him,
others were oddly chatting,
as the lights on the doorway grew dim,
brown eyes glanced down,
smoke was all around,
emergency sounds were ringing in his ear,
he was frightened and full of fear,
the child drawled,
slipped and fell,
and tried to crawl,
as he heard the fire bell,
the shadows moved closer,
they were more frightened,
the child was charred, and black,
as the fire-blaze was pushed back,
by the fire fighters who were on the attack,
they saw the child and couldn’t believe their eyes,
while still on fire the child sat up,
nothing was muttered, and there were no cries,
the child whispered with soot in his eyes,
“ I don’t want to die.”
The fire-fighter gathered his fragmented thoughts and replied,
“ You’re not going to die.”
He lied.
My child who was laid to rest
In the stillness of mind
You are within my thoughts
Though time has gone by
Still you creep up
Within these chambers
Yet my tears now
For most are dried
I kiss you now
For one more last time
In mind I have said this
So many times.
Now too I must find my way
Still for me to have time to live
My sweet child you were
I have learned through you
Time, all is time
To become whole, to be complete
To be!
But with all tears so many shed
Love must shine within all
Yes shine,
To be a pillar in someone else's storm
To soothe, to help in someone else's
Pain and grief
Sleep now my child
Sleep till we meet again.
R.I.P. 05/22/2000
When the sun goes down, and the breeze freshens,
when the night fills the sky, I’ll then feel at home,
as I’ve none of my own.
And I’ll feel as though I belong.
When the moon comes up and lights the night
and the stars dot the heavens, I stare transfixed
in awe of what I see
as I silently wish with all my might.
To see the sun rise, not in the morning as all else,
but in my mind or in my heart,
is what can put me to rest.
In a corner of my mind, where no-one ever sees,
lies a child in fear.
Of the terror of the day,
and the mysteries of the night.
And as I watch that child grow old and alone,
I wonder why the light never shines in on him.
When the sun brightens the darkest of days
and the moon and stars illuminate the night,
why must anyone live in the darkness of the
mind, which no light can reach?
What can block the light,
what can break the spell,
what can move this one to freedom?
Why must the fight never leave the mind,
why must the child grow old?
Why do the stars never twinkle?
Why do the leaves fall off;
why does the river taste like tears?
Why does the mind ache and hurt?
Why does the heart pull up curt:
Why does my soul feel pain?