My little sunshine
Would be two years old
Next month.
He would say “Mom”
He would say “Dad”
He would toddle alone.
Playing with the other
Children of the family
Cousins of his.
Little tennis shoes
Peak out from jeans
And a little tee-shirt
Hugs his belly.
His life would be simple
But he never got a chance
Quenched by his mother’s body
No one knows why.
No laughter, no tears
No “blankies” or toys
No “Mom” or “Dad” in a small voice
Because my child is gone.
There was no funeral
There wasn’t a tiny casket
Or mourners weeping his loss.
But each July his mom
Remembers her love for him
And wishes he were here.
To say “Mom” and “Dad”
To play with his toys
And toddle along on earth
Instead of with his Father in Heaven.
– Jane Simeone