Just a child,
born into this world,
Pure innocence,
wrapped up inside of him.

No knowledge of how this life works,
Unaware of death,
awaiting his soul to keep.

A hysterical mother,
a bewildered father,
Begging for answers
about the unexpected leave.

Picking up flowers,
to place on the grave,
For the little one,
whose life was short-lived.

Silenced questions from those
too young to understand,
Raging emotions from those
too old to accept his condition.

Moving with the breeze,
after all have left,
The flowers stand strong,
in place of the son.

 

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