Loss Of A Child
The loss of a child
Is barren and cold
Not feeling any more
The movement in life
There are no words
Or comfort that can sooth
A mother that morns
The loss of their child
Still yet to be born
Leaves you barren and empty
Forlorn and cold
You weep for maybes
Of what was yet to be
We close our eyes often
And dream of what ifs
Or maybes things in life
We will surely miss
All we can do
Is move on in our lives
And hope what we had
Will enrich our lives
poem by Kaila George
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Child Of My Life
Child of my life
Close your eyes
Sleep tight
No one can hurt you
Your in heaven now
Where the angels
Will love you
Child of my life
How I miss you
Each day that goes by
I miss you even more
But I know the angels
Will love you
Child of my life
How I miss you
Lord why did you take my child
He never hurt you
Why didn't you take me
Like I begged you to
Child of my life
I die inside
When I think of the years of pain
I saw in your eyes
Child of my life
Close your eyes
Sleep tight
When you wake up in heaven
I will be there to comfort you
I wish I could explain
why god took you
Maybe the angels will tell you
Child of my life
I can't live in this world
Without you
I will come to you
When you wake up in heaven
I will be there to comfort you
Child of my life
How I miss you
I will see you soon
In the memory of
Stefan kiszko and his loving mother
One of the worst miscarriages of
Justice ever
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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In Memoriam (A Child Missed)
A desk lies empty
A missing face to find
A child soon missed by some
Another life consumed by one
A classmate questioned
A missing child to find
While a desk lies empty
A hope dwindles with time
As a child's life once abound
A child's fate is now found
While a desk lies empty
A lifeless child is found
As questions of why arise
A time for tears to flow
While a desk lies empty
A prayer for a missed child we know
A quiet voice to miss
A child missed we know
While a desk lies empty
A question of why to know
A future now not to be
A tragic loss we are told
While a desk lies empty
An answer of why yet untold
A myriad of lives changed
Another youthful innocent lost
While a desk lies empty
At a life's innocence cost
A society believed so rich
And yet a life's worth so poor
While a desk lies empty
Another child's life's no more
A time to ponder a commitment
A life's question to answer
While a desk lies empty...
poem by Robert John Meehan
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Lost In A House Fire
The loss of a child
The loss of a wife
Tis all the same as the loss of your own life
The loss of house and all that's inside
Tis all the same as if your whole soul had died
The loss of temper
Loss of faith and self-control
Tis all the same as knowing you have now grown very old
The loss of all memory when all is becalmed
When you find that your wife and child all safe and unharmed
poem by Neil Milliner
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Your Loss
you dumped me
did you dump your kid too
one day your kid will
want to know about you
your child will ask why
why you dont care
why you dont see him
why arent you there
you child will want to know
everything about you
maybe come looking for you
then what will you do
your child will ask
what has he done
why you dont love him
why did you never come
your child will hurt
as long as he lives
wondering why
and what gives
you must be very
cold inside
hurting a child
why
i can give answers
try make him feel peace
but his
emptyness will never cease
your dumping your child
is mean and cruel
to him, not me
its your loss, you fool
poem by Sandy Nobody
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Life Songs
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
One of sadness, or of grief?
A song of misery?
When a newborn cries and opens its eyes,
what will its song be?
A song of greatness, a song of wealth,
or one of poverty?
When trouble comes, and surely it will,
what will that child's song be?
When we are born our song begins
and we enjoy its pleasant tune.
We sing its melody in the innocence
that leaves us all too soon.
As we grow we hear the songs of
people in various places.
Songs of pride, songs of hatred
and of conflict among the races.
The songs of children playing together
are very pleasing to hear.
Regardless of race, status or color,
their sweet songs don't cause fear.
The Master told us that with childlike qualities
we'll see God's heavenly city.
To miss such a goal because of hearts so cold
would be a tragic pity.
We hear life songs every day and
like smoke they fade away.
But lives that are sung with childlike meekness
will 'inherit the earth' someday.
To sing a song of wonder and worth
is how this life should really be-
with all the innocents throughout the earth
and with love as our constant key.
When a child is born into this world,
what kind of song will his or her life be?
A song of joy?
A song of hope?
A beautiful rhapsody?
****************
Matthew 18: 3
****************
poem by C.F. Wilkins
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The Creator And A Barren Woman
A barren woman had been praying for a child for long,
Then after many years without hope the Creator heard her prayers;
Then the Creator said to her: 'A year today you will give birth'.
This is the story of the Creator and a barren woman:
A year after the barren woman gave birth to a child.
Now, she started to complain again to the Creator;
Because, she has no time to take care of the child.
'Oh, i am too tired of taking care of this child';
And the Creator was very patience.
'Oh, i cannot take care of this child any longer';
And the Creator was very patience again.
'Oh, i have given my husband a child but i cannot take care of him';
This child was a son and then, the Creator said to the woman:
'When you were baren you did cried out for a child but,
Now that you've got one you also crying daily for his upkeep';
'Well, the wants of mankind are many and mankind is NOT satisfied'.
Yes, we are all living on this earth;
With stories and the things that we see around us;
But mankind is really NOT satisfied, whether barren or with a child.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Jesus To Child
Kindness in your eyes
I guess you heard me cry
You smiled at me
Like Jesus to a child
I'm blessed, I know
Heaven sent and heaven stole
You smiled at me
Like Jesus to a child
And what have I learned
>From all this pain?
I thought I'd never feel the same
About anyone
Or anything again
But now I know
When you find love
When you know that it exists
Then the lover that you miss
Will come to you
On those cold, cold nights
When you've been loved
When you know it holds such bliss
Then the lover that you kissed
Will comfort you
When there's no hope in sight
Sadness in your eyes
No one guessed, or no one tried
You smiled at me
Like Jesus to a child
Loveless and cold
With your last breath you saved my soul
You smiled at me
Like Jesus to a child
And what have I learned
>From all these
I've waited for you all those years
And just when it began
He took your love away
But I still say
When you find love
When you know that it exists
Then the lover that you miss
Will come to you
On those cold, cold nights
When you've been loved
When you know it holds such bliss
Then the lover that you kissed
Will comfort you
When there's no hope in sight
So the words you could not say
I'll sing them for you
And the love we would have made
I'll make it for two
For every single memory
Has become a part of me
You will always be
My love
Well, I've been loved
So I know just what love is
And the lover that I kissed
Is always by my side
Oh the lover I still miss
Was Jesus to a child
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sobbing Child
Tentively I touch
The sobbing child
Will he flinch
Will he run
Will he deny his mother’s love
A tear trickles down my cheek
Morning for the loss
Does he even know
How much he means to me
Does he even know
How much I care
My pain is real, the agony just kills
Knowing he has walked away
From hands out stretched
Waiting to comfort my child
And protect him from the world
That lays barren in his heart
He may not believe in God
Hey may not know that I care
But I wait with baited breath
For his safe return
To be held close to heart
In his mothers loving arms.
poem by Kaila George
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To Fine Lady Would-Be
Fine madam Would-Be, wherefore should you fear,
That love to make so well, a child to bear?
The world reputes you barren: but I know
Your 'pothecary, and his drug says no.
Is it the pain affrights? That's soon forgot.
Or your complexion's loss? you have a pot,
That can restore that. Will it hurt your feature?
To make amends, you are thought a wholesome creature.
What should the cause be? Oh, you live at court;
And there's both loss of time, and loss of sport,
In a great belly: Write then on thy womb,
'Of the not born, yet buried, here's the tomb.'
poem by Ben Jonson
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Loss
The loss of a child
is sadness within.
How do we recover?
How do we begin?
No one can comfort you.
No one can console.
The loss is devasting.
You feel your not whole.
Part of you has gone
to where you can't see.
And the memory it leaves
clings to thee.
The loss is hard,
hard to accept.
Each tear that has fallen,
each tear you have wept
is a chasm of emptiness
that you can't fill.
Nothing can fill it,
not even God's will.
And so we take a step each day.
We move a little slower
and try to make our way
and come to terms with loss.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Another Child Moves On
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
But in another town in another place
Another child is born to the human race
And another child moves on
We dream a little less each day
We suffer in some new way
Soon we discover a bright new lover
Then realize we were born for demise
As another child dances in front of our eyes
And another child moves on
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
but in another town, in another place, another child joins the human race
and another child moves on
And when another child moves on
Tell me what is gained when he's gone?
In the great green valley of life
Another death cuts us like a knife
We play baseball in the lights at the park
Discover a new kiss by the moonlit dark
Watch silly shows as the picture tube glows
edit our speech to soothe our friends
Knowing full well how this all ends
And then another child moves on
The flowers in a still life painting never move
The phonograph needle on a record album never leaves the same groove
But in another town in some new place
Another child is born to the human race
And another child moves on
And another child moves on
Tell me who has lost whose won?
A mother sighs and a mother cries
A father merely lowers his eyes
And in another town in another place
A bright smiling child joins the human race
And the whole world smiles along
Beau Golden
1989
poem by Beau Golden
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The Eyes Of A Child
(graham russell and ron bloom)
When you look to the past for lifes long hidden meaning
For the dreams and the plans made in your youth
Does the thrill to achieve match the warm hidden feeling
That lies so still and lives in you
In the eyes of a child there is joy, there is laughter
There is hope, there is trust, a chance to shape the future
For the lessons of life there is no better teacher
Than the look in the eyes of a child
Youve found the place to walk the path youve chosen
Youll never miss the world youve left behind
When life gives life, its happiness unbroken
When you give love, its love youll find
In the eyes of a child there is joy, there is laughter
There is hope, there is trust, a chance to shape the future
For the lessons of life there is no better teacher
Than the look in the eyes of a child
In the eyes of a child there is joy, there is laughter
There is hope, there is trust, a chance to shape the future
For the lessons of life there is no better teacher
Than the look in the eyes of a child
In the eyes of a child there is joy, there is laughter
There is hope, there is trust, a chance to shape the future
For the lessons of life there is no better teacher
Than the look in the eyes of a child
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lifesong
to a child very young
life is
happiness and fun
to a child getting bigger
life and school
seem to be getting bitter
to a child growing up
life and love
seem to be getting mixed up
to a child fully grown
life is about
making choices on your own
to a child with a child
life is about
making sure there life isn't wild
to a child getting old
life is about
keeping your family out of the cold
to a child old and grey
life is about
remembering the past things you used to say
to a child dead and gone
life was about
your one lifesong
poem by No Reason To Care
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I Am Too
I AM TOO TIRED TO WRITE A GOOD POEM
I am too tired to write a good poem
I am too cold also
I have been out all day in the cold and the rain
I have been doing errands since early in the morning
I babysat for four hours in the afternoon
I went out again in the cold and rain to buy a few groceries
I tried to write and could not
I read and overate a few times
I tried to write
But I could not
I am very tired now
A poem should not be a simple clear description of one’s own mood at the moment
I am too tired to write a good poem
But I try to write
And this is the result
A poor poem indeed.
I AM GRATEFUL FOR THE PARENTS I HAD AND HAVE
I am grateful for the parents I had and have
They are still with me
I miss them
Sometimes they appear in my dreams
When I am walking I think of them
I see them at various ages of their lives
My father young tall strong
My mother smiling kind warm in strong middle age
My father bent on his way to the senior citizens
My mother in a wheelchair no longer even half herself
Or in the pictures of them in their youth
As I never saw them in life
I think of them and miss them
Their dreams their loves are in me
Yesterday I was with a great – grandchild of theirs
Who they never have seen or will see
How happy that smiling calm child would have made them
Life is difficult and long and filled with loss and blessing
How I will love and miss my parents always
How they still live in me
And hopefully in what comes after me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Tourtured Child
Tortured child sitting on the window pane
Innocent boy, hurt through inner pain
Bleeding arms cut by serrated knives
Ends in the loss of more innocent lives
Bruised little girl sleeping in her little bed
While she lies she wonders in her head
“Why did he touch me? Why all the lies? ”
Ends in the loss of more innocent lives
Young lonely girl sitting in her chair
All alone crying in her lair
Hanging from the rope as her friend cries
Ends in the loss of more innocent lives
Beautiful little girl covered with tears
Down the stairs lie all her fears
Though she cries she sits alone
Her beatings sting, straight to the bone
She refuses to scream and yet she cries
Ends in the loss of more innocent lives
Black crows sitting on the branches crying out
Dark clouds hovering about like the veins of God
Children screaming like
There is no hope of salvation
Trees swaying in the breeze like life
It keeps going without a care
poem by Melanie Hannon
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She Sneezed Seven Times
One who was declared barren is now with a child,
One who was declared useless is now useful,
For i have now taken away the sadness on her face.
She was deeply distressed and she sneezed seven times,
But a valley full of ditches is now with water.
This is the story of a Shunammite woman,
Of a noble and a kind woman that she was;
But today she has a beautiful child in her arms.
Are you also into the same problem?
Then let us hope for a brighter tomorrow;
LIke the cold water from the Atlantic Ocean.
She is now living in paradise with her child,
And she is now strong with the cheers on her face;
The earth shook and the heavens poured out water for her,
For she ho was barren has now given birth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Life In Newspaper
Some life stop their life on newspaper.
some life loss their life on newspaper.
loss their life like a photograph.
Loss their life in a column of newspaper.
Loss their life in the lightening photo of star.
Speech of false leader.
Profile of high profile cader.
Photo of dustbin child.
Fulfil the newspaper.
Now life,
Now love,
Addvertisement of peace,
or humanity.
Everything u found here.
Now life loss his life in newspaper.
poem by Imtiaz Emon
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Floodlight, Headlight, Moonlight, Goodnight
I'm lifting my eyes from the cold concrete.
Rising over the horizon like the sunlight.
Cruising altitude has been obtained.
Don't dropp me now.
I'm going home.
Burning up on reentry.
I feel something shifting.
There's a change being made.
The fire washes away that which was.
I'm numb to the flames.
Loss of feeling.
Loss of life.
Loss of self.
I should have seen it coming.
poem by Seth Proch
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Monday's Child is Ill
Monday's child is ill, I'm told.
Tuesday's child has caught a cold.
Wednesday's child is down with the flu.
Thursday's child is feeling blue.
Friday's child can't eat any food.
Saturday's child is in a foul mood.
And the child that's born on the seventh day
Is the only child that feels okay.
poem by Bruce Larkin
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Quieta Ne Movete II
IF one should wake one's frozen faith
In sunlight of her radiant eyes,
Bid it forget its dream of death,
In this new dream of Paradise,
Bid it forget the long, slow pain,
The agony when, all in vain,
It fought for life, and how one swore,
Once cold, it should not waken more;
If hope one buried long ago
Should thrill beneath those smiles of hers,
Should in one's sere life stir and grow,
As in brown woods the young spring stirs;
If, breaking icy bonds of grief,
One's soul should start to bud and leaf,
It might forget in that springtide
How last year's leaves fell off and died.
If from warm faith and hope set high
A lovely living child was born,
With lips more pure than starlit sky,
And eyes as clear as summer morn,
Child-love might grow till one forgot
Old love, that was and now is not--
Forgot that far-off time of tears,
And all these desolated years.
And yet of faith, hope, love, one knows
So well what end the years will make,
If one should dig beneath Time's snows
And wake them now for her sweet sake.
New life may mean new joy; but then,
What lives again may die again,
And to that second death there may
Be no new resurrection-day.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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