There was deep sorrow in his eyes
He looked at me and said
-We tried it all; I speak no lies
The baby was born dead
I stared at him with disbelief
I felt the flood of sweat
How will I ever find relief?
My robe was now all wet!
She came out dead; she did not breathe
Her heart was very weak
I myself now wish not to breathe
No longer comfort seek
I saw her lifeless body pale
I saw her tiny fist
Why must her tiny heart just fail?
And she will not exist!
I fall into a rage and scream
I crawl out from the room
I try to focus but I scream
Her birthday is my doom!
I fall onto a rug outside
I blame myself and God!
Why were no angels by her side?
And where was selfish God?
I wish to become part of dirt
Unwanted and unseen
I will not survive this deep hurt
Remove please now my spleen.
I lift my head and see above
A father with his child
I feel familiar love above
I turn; I see; Ghost mild
My deceased husband stands there
And in his arms is she!
I wish to reach out but don’t dare
Melissa, it is she!
Take no notice Dmitriy of the previous comment, he is known for running peoples poems down, he has done it to me, he thinks he is the only one who can write poetry, but I myself am not impressed with his work.. This is such a sad poem and yet it is beautiful to read. A wonderful storyline which you have expressed so well, a very moving write. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think Ernestine's comments are right on target Dmitriy. In fact, Ernestine is, in my opinion, the best judge of any poem. No matter what kind of poem it is, Ernestine will tell you if it's good or not. She is the one peson that I have found here, who is closer to the overall public mind than anyone else. I agree with everything she said. Even what she said about the previous commentator. I will make further comments in a message. Greenwolfe 1962