My Stranger

I love a stranger,
Someone without a name.
I never got to meet them,
But I love them just the same.
I never got to kiss their face, they are someone I was never able to hold.
They didn’t get to live here in this place, and they will never grow old.
I carried them beneath my heart,
Which makes sense to me.
Because in my heart,
That is where they will forever be




    THANKS TIGER ~ Welcome to MPS ~ it is a very empathetic site ! Thanks for your first Poem which is very elegant in style in terms of Rhyme & Rhythm. The contents is SAD but you have given great dignity. I am engaged but have never been a Father or a Potential Father. Male Friends of mine find "miscarriage" or a "still birth" very difficult to come to terms with but for my Female Friends it much more real ~ because you carry a living Baby inside you ~ but who as you say ~ you never got to hold ~ kiss ~ see grow up but who will ever live forever in your heart. It seems especially hard if it is a "First Baby". It seems to me there is a greater understanding today ~ of how the Mother Feels and they have a Burial Service for "still borns" and a grave ! This is a very brave Poem for you to share and I love your positivity ! Because your "Unborn Child" will be forever in you HEART ~ AMEN Thanks for caring & sharing and sharing ~ Yours BRIAN (UK) Please check my Poems ~ Thanks B !

    • Tiger.Autumn

      Thank you very much for your feedback, I really appreciate it. This was the first poem I’ve ever tried to write. It definitely was hard to put into words, and I feel like I still have so much more to say, but when I completed the last line, I knew this poem was done. It is such a surreal experience to lose a baby. I was not very far along, which is why I mentioned I was never able to name, see, or hold my baby, because I was so early in my pregnancy. And I wanted to express that emptiness, pain, confusion and loss a mother feels, even in early pregnancy miscarriages. Many people had told me I “shouldn’t be so sad, because it was so early” and for me, it’s even more painful because I’ll never know if they were my son, or daughter, I can’t even conjure up an image of who they would have been or what they looked like. I do believe I’ll definitely have some more poems coming.

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