No, wait. Don't go
Just breathe
I wish I could say I didn't know
But for months I did know
So why is it, Dad
That looking down at you now
It's like a conjurer's illusion?
You'll open your eyes
You'll breathe, just breathe
But there can be no confusion
This is your final sleep
Rage, guilt, grief all seethe
Baby's bright eyes looking up at us
The hand of fate played its part
Made this boy wait to start
His journey here on Earth
Dad, some may say you missed each other
But somewhere, you met this boy
And you smiled at him
Blessing him with your self-same joy
Beautiful boy, precious gift
He's here with us now
This is no conjurer's illusion
Faulkner's conclusion
"Nothing matters but breath.
Breathing,
To know and to be alive."
The fragility of life
Beautiful boy, precious gift
Breathe, breathe. Just breathe
And there will be life
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Author:
Anne@1 (
Offline) - Published: September 1st, 2022 05:36
- Comment from author about the poem: Hi guys, I'd welcome some feedback on this poem.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments3
The poem is beautiful with a phenomenal message.
Thank you, it's lovely to hear.
Thank you, it's lovely to hear.
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