Stolen But Not Take
You little precious angel
Your tiny little face
Your sweet little hands
God brought you in this place.
You lie in bed,
With pipes in you nose,
The endless pipes,
This is what destiny chose
Your little tiny feet,
Your sweet little eyes,
I really wanna hold you,
Stop you little silent cries.
I always asked about you,
You tiny little child,
From a 1 pound baby.
To a 5 pound child.
7 months in hospital,
The clocks ticking by,
Each and every day,
He holds on real tight.
A little premature baby,
I pray for you each night,
Hope you get better,
As you do deserve a right.
Now I stand here,
With tears in my eyes,
And I look down to see,
A tiny coffin with a body inside.
You little helpless angel,
Your tiny pale face,
Your closed little eyes,
God took you to a better place.
I WROTE THIS POEM WHEN I FOUND OUT ABOUT MY FRIEND HER NEWPHEW DIED, HE WAS BORN SEVERAL MONTHS PREMATURE AND
WEIGHED ONLY 1 POUND AND SOON WHEN HE STARTED TO GAIN WIGHT AND TURNED 5 POUNDS WE THOUGHT HE WOULD LIVE, BUT SADLY SOON DIED. PLZZ RATE THIS POEM IT WOULD MEAN A LOT. MAY HE REST IN PEACE…
