My Boy Poem by Hermione Femalton

I live my life in silence,
My words are laced with pain,
Trying not to fall apart;
Please, God, just keep me sane.

Upon the silent bed he lay;
My son, aged nine point five,
Struggling not to lose the fight;
Strug'lin' to stay alive.

A scream, a flash of blood;
His blond head hit the floor,
The car just kept on driving;
I wonder what he saw.

At first they thought he'd live,
Then they said he'd die,
I read him all his stories;
Whispering as I cried.

I prayed to all the heavens;
Praying that he'd wake,
I prayed that he'd recover;
If only for my sake.

As the days grew longer,
He grew worse and worse;
I spent my nights be weeping,
Imagining his hearse.

I wished that he could notice me;
Knew that I was there,
I wished he knew I loved him;
Wished he knew I care.

Then sud'nly it was over;
My heart, it burst from pain,
My baby, gone forever;
Everything was in vain.

His coffin was small and dark,
(I) was imagining his face,
I clutched his bear and wept for him;
Adorned in my black lace.

Now I live my days in silent hope
That one day, when death is done;
Then I'll come home to him;
My dear and darling son.

(November 2008)