*No story of grief is complete without some badly written poetry designed to bleed the pain of your soul. I wrote this. It's not the worst poem that I have ever read, but it is definitely NOT a "good" example of poetry. So before you judge me too harshly, remember that I am not a poet. I just needed to bleed off the pain my heart was feeling. And this was how I did it. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I'm warning you now that it is depressing and sad and probably poorly written. But I'm putting it out here because I am not hiding any step of this horrible, painful journey. I'm an open book, my friends.*
Our Time Together Was Too Short
Evelyn Jean Brook Shields-Cowley
My sweet son, our time together was too short.
It hurts so bad that you never opened your eyes,
I don’t even know what color they would have been.
And it breaks my heart to know that I will never hear your cries.
My sweet Angel Baby, not a single day goes by
That I don’t miss your precious face.
People say that it gets better, that the pain goes away.
I think they lie, my son—this isn’t the kind of pain you can erase.
We will never get the chance to laugh and be silly,
I’ll never get the chance to kiss your tears away,
We’ll never get the chance to check for those closet monsters,
And I’ll never get to tuck you in at the end of a really long day.
You closed your eyes for good too soon, my son, too soon.
The pain is unbearable, and the grief threatens to drown me.
I don’t know when I will be able to smile and laugh again without telling a lie,
Maybe it will happen when we meet again; I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.