I hate this, this too little thing, too light, too small
It looks fake, it looks plastic
Are we putting on a play? Is this a production?
If so, the lighting is all wrong, the sun is shining,
A cool breeze blowing
Birds are singing
Burning up , but I'm cold inside.
Because that thing, its too little, too light, to small
It can't be real, it looks so fake
This can't be real.
When we held her,.. she was too heavy, too still, too, cold.
And that thing, that casket ,. is too small.
Comments:
Wow, I don't know what to say. I know we have our disagreements on the Cafe, but none of that stuff matters when it comes to the moments like this that make up so much of our lives. I'm sorry for your loss.
you really have a talent for writing tracey. i cant imagine your pain, but this is a very beautiful poem..-hugs-
Vee, discussions can only be good,. agreement is not always the goal, but sometimes,. those things we have so much energy and time to talk about,. just seem so trivial, ya know? July is just coming too fast and I'm not sure how to handle it.
Thanks Kiralyn, sometimes i wonder if I should put those thoughts in here, but this is part of me.
I have been away for awhile. But I am back and just read this. Such a wonderful poem. If you wrote that, you have a talent for sure.
i wrote it,. this is how i felt on the day of her funeral,. everything seemed to surreal to me,. and, if you could've seen that tiny, little casket,. it didn't look real.
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She was a beautiful baby. Your time with her was so special. I don't know the right words to say, but everything you feel is the way you are supposed to feel.
- lilmami81
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