This little life was made
so perfect and so small
He lies so still, tiny chest barely
moving, every breath a struggle
Does he know we’re here?
Can he feel how much I love him?
I would breathe for him if I could,
and take his pain and
suffering inside myself
Poor little angel, body weighted
down by machines and wires
Does he feel the warm caress
of his mother hand?
Precious one, don’t go
stay with me,
take my strength
and live.......

Diane Truman