another poem / Michelle (Mommy)
The Club
There is an exclusive club
One which you would pay anything
not to be a member of.
One where its members all have a common bond.
A place where we can come,
and everyone knows how to respond.
A club that allows us
to not feel so all alone.
Each of us has a child
with their name carved in stone.
Our eyes weep,
our smiles droop,
our sorrow is deep,
and our hearts continually ache.
We all mourn the death of a child,
and are struggling to live again in its wake.
Some club members are very new.
The veterans show us what to do.
We all help each other cope,
trying to provide a drop of hope.
We all pray to God that you
never have the need to join our fold,
that you will always have your children to hold,
but please know that we are here
with open arms and understanding hearts,
if you ever do.
Copyright Jayma Bezzy 2007
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