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Gone but not forgotten

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

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