Infant Loss Poem
A poem for baby loss
Really sad this one, for those mums who have to wear these shoes.
I wear a pair of shoes
They are ugly shoes
Uncomfortable shoes
I hate my shoes
Each day I wear them and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step
Yet, I continue to wear them
I get funny looks wearing these shoes
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs
They never talk about my shoes
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt
No woman deserves to wear these shoes
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
If you have any other poems and would like to contribute, please fill out the form below.
Regards
fiona xx
That poem just epitomises the feelings that a mother feels at the loss of her child. I lost my eighteen year old son last november and I can so relate to thispoem, thanks
The above poem is very sad – it conveys the pain and hopelessness as only someone who wears ‘those shoes’ could, and my heart goes out to its author, and to anyone who’s ever felt like this.
My son, Oliver, was stillborn at just over 24 weeks, less than a month ago. I wanted him so much, and my heart was so full of love already for him, that losing him hit me full force. Thankfully I have 2 other children who need their mummy – without them I think I’d implode. I wrote this poem for my lost little boy.
My little boy
will never grow up -
I’ll never see him laugh
or his face light up.
I’ll never sit & hold him
through the night.
To calm his childish
worries and frights.
He’ll never kick a ball,
or play hide and seek.
He’ll never roll in long grass
or climb a stony peak.
He’ll never feel the sun
or the wind or the rain.
He’ll never experience love
or suffer from pain.
A lifetime of possibility
cut off at the source -
Saying goodbye to my Oliver
fills me with pain & remorse.
And my grief is so deep
and so vast and so wide
That my heart broke into pieces
the day that he died.
Sarah
so sad for you xxxxx