I sometimes hear his voice in the wind, like a song that only I can hear, his laughter ringing, like bells in my ears, tickles, of love, against his tummy . I'd give anything to say, "I love you honey", His asking for a sweet lullabye, Not knowing your child, will die. . . Someway I will not cry, or try, to tell my sweet baby goodbye. Or why, I am haunted by his beautiful eyes. To lose a child. . . is to lose a tiny piece of your soul, to know that your child, unlike you, will never grow peacefully old, someway I will not cry, or dry, tears like rivers from my eyes, to hear his tiny voice whisper, "I love you mommy . . . goodbye. Copyright 1998, Erica HughesBirth sign: Libra
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