They say to lose a child is the worst
When it comes to hard times its cursed
Remember the first time in your arms
When you felt them and all of their charms
Was it the new baby smell that would stay
Or the fact that they were yours straight away
When my brother died on that terrible day
I could see in my mother's eyes what she would pay
It's hard to find the words best for the time
And all you can do is stand there to find
But although they have left this physical world
They are their standing with you forever held.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem