Born Sleeping

She sobbed messily,
Tears staining her unwashed cheeks.
Her hair ran amok,
As untidy as the house in which she stood,
Clutching tea she would not drink,
Thinking thoughts too hard to think,
And asking ‘why?’
Though she did not expect an answer.
There was no answer
That could ease the pain,
There was no answer
That would make her feel whole again.
And so she wept,
Gently stroking her stomach,
Still slightly swollen;
Until so recently the home
Of hopes and dreams and life,
Until the child
She already knew so well,
And loved with all her being,
Was born.
Perfect but sleeping.


This entry was posted in Death, Emotions, Family, Love, Parenting, Relationships and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Born Sleeping

  1. colonialist says:

    Heart-wrenching, this one.


  2. So very sad, the raw inconsolable grief of loss.


  3. words4jp says:

    I must ditto colonialist’s comment. Heart wrenching.


  4. words4jp says:

    i ditto colonialist’s comment – heart wrenching.


  5. Louise Allan says:

    Love the title—I knew what it would be about … Achingly beautiful.


  6. beloved76 says:

    Oh, what a moving and shocking poem.



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