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The saddest thing in life I know is when,
I can’t prevent the death of a young child;
My years of learning all seem awaste, then;
My heart with anger fills; my mind grows wild.
I shudder within myself, almost cry;
Was there a freak chance of saving life still?
I ask myself, my God, the question- 'Why
Death cruel stole the child's soul while still ill? ’
’Tis alright when an old man, diseased dies;
The bud had flowered; fruit was yet unripe;
The child had not a speck or stain of vice;
Who can the mother's lament ever wipe?
Alas! None can query the acts of God;
He is the Wisest One; we are but clod!
4-3-2002
Dedicated to: Prof. Dr P. Ramachandran M.D., D.C.H.,
HOD of Pediatrics, IRT PMC&RC/PMCH, Perundurai
ERODE-638053, T.N. INDIA
By Dr John Celes
Dr John Celes
Read poems about / on: child, anger, death, mother, god, life, sonnet, children, flower
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