Come, child. It's evening. Come to me,
And sit with me once more.
Let's rock here while the others sleep.
So sorry, You know what for,
And you, you would be eight this year.
I do not know your name.
The color of your eyes, or hair,
Or where, or how, to blame.
The fear was all, the fear of change,
For I saw change as loss.
Against my dreams, my plans, my life
You seemed so small a cost,
Not knowing how your presence
Altered how I felt and thought,
Not knowing how you changed me
In the mix the hormones brought.
And you were not a child to me
But sickness, pain, and fear —
But oh, I know, I know you now,
And wish that you were here,
And I am lost and so confused
And don't know how to feel,
For you, who were an illness,
Every year becomes more real;
Oh! My little lost unknown,
My first and never-brorn
Forgive the ignorance that sent you
To the dark, and never mourned,
And no, it isn't every day
I find your shadow here;
Most times I'm far too busy
For reflection or for tears,
But sometimes, when the world's Asleep
And I have time alone,
I sit down in the dark, and rock,
And bring my baby home.
