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What It’s Like
(Written 6~30~01)
Today my son cornered me, in his juvenile way,
His eyes were a bright shining blue,
Like the sky on a beautiful day.
“Mommy, what’s it like to die?”
I couldn’t form speech,
I couldn’t even reply.
How do you tell a child, of only four,
Exactly what it's like,
As a heart dies a little bit more.
The pain and the agony, death doth bring,
The shock of hearing the phone,
In it’s death toll ring.
How could I explain, as he looked on,
At his mommy, his friend,
While he cried for whom had already gone.
So while I resented fate that very same day,
He looked down at me and whispered,
“Why mommy, can't you come back and play???”
