I long to have a collection of pictures,
stuck to my fridge with magnets,
painted proudly by your infant hands

I imagine the smell of you against me,
clinging to my legs, sticky fingers,
wanting love, affection and play

It pains me to think I feared your existence,
terrified I would not be good enough,
to provide for your childhood needs

My outlook changed, optimistic joy.
I sang to you, you lay inside,
A maternal lullaby for my little boy

Heartache hurt, more than bloody agony
my eyes on fire, tears of my grief,
Had I done wrong? Had I?

Sterile hospital, dead of night,
windows clattered to a whistling January gale,
the wind took your beautiful, innocent soul

You should be almost 6 years old!
I'll never hear your first word,
see your first step or hear you cry

Too special for life on earth,
you stand hand in hand with the angels,
in a magical playground in the sky

I feel your loving smile.