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  • The saddest sound
    I have ever heard
    was my daughter
    sobbing for her babe.

    The joy of my
    grandson’s birth was
    shattered, as life
    so tenuous, has
    not been granted
    to him, our sweet boy.

    Gathered we wept:
    grandparents, mother
    so young; siblings
    friends and cousins asked;
    why has cruel death
    visited us thus?

    Our hopes have turned
    to ashes contained.
    Words escaped me
    as, desolate,

    I realised my
    mother’s kiss would
    not heal this jagged
    wound. Time perchance
    will shroud this cruel pain.

    Like a flower
    who has chosen not
    to unfold its
    petals to the sun

    F has chosen
    not to linger in
    this world. He felt
    his mothers embrace
    then slept in peace
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