Tuesday, September 27, 2011


I came upon these poems in a group that I belong to. Thought I would post them here.

My mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it said.

But, I can hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.

I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand,

she does not know that I am with her, to help her understand.

But, like the sands on the beach, that never wash away,

I watch over my surviving mom who thinks of me each day.

She wears a smile for others,...a smile of disguise,

but through heaven's doors, I see tears flowing from her eyes.

My Mom tries to cope with death, to keep my memory alive,

but anyone who knows her, knows it's just a way for her to survive.

As I watch over my surviving mother through Heaven's door.

I try to tell her that angels watch over me forevermore.

I know that doesn't help her, or ease the burden that she bears,

so if you get a chance please go visit her and show her that you care.

No matter what she says, no matter what she feels,

my surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal.


The Loss Of A Child

The moment that I knew you had died,
My heart split in two,
The one side filled with memories,
The other died with you.

I often lay awake at night,
When the world is fast asleep,
And take a walk down memory lane,
With tears upon my cheek.

Remembering you is easy,
I do it every day,
But missing you is a heartache,
That never goes away.

I hold you tightly within my heart,
And there you will remain,
Life has gone on without you,
But it never will be the same.

For those who still have their children,
Treat them with tender care,
You will never know the emptiness,
As when you turn and they are not there.

Don't tell me that you understand,
don't tell me that you know.
Don't tell me that I will survive,
How I will surely grow.

Don't tell me this is just a test,
That I am truly blessed.
That I am chosen for the task,
Apart from all the rest.

Don't come at me with answers
That can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass,
That I will soon be free.

Don't stand in pious judgment
Of the bonds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to grieve,
Don't tell me when to cry.

Accept me in my ups and downs,
I need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry,
And say, "My friend, I care."

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