Sunrise Emmanuelle
I can feel your cold, limp hand in mine,
seeing eyes that will never open,
and a mouth which words will never flow from.
Your purple face gives away your lost life,
a soul which has flown away,
and life that will never be lived.
A mother's tears roll down her face,
her first daughter now gone,
a sibling for her son lost.
Coming home reminds them,
their precious baby was born still,
and things will never be the same.
seeing eyes that will never open,
and a mouth which words will never flow from.
Your purple face gives away your lost life,
a soul which has flown away,
and life that will never be lived.
A mother's tears roll down her face,
her first daughter now gone,
a sibling for her son lost.
Coming home reminds them,
their precious baby was born still,
and things will never be the same.
♠ ♠ ♠
This poem is about my niece, who was born still September 26, 2011, her due date. It was my sister's second child, first daughter. Everyone in the family was severely affected by her death and I still struggle through the realization my second niece isn't with us.