The Fight for Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A free verse poem, telling of a child's fight for life and a parents torture

Submitted: January 22, 2007

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Submitted: January 22, 2007




Born too young,
For life not yet prepared.
They tell me its no-ones fault,
Just one of those things,
Your child may be fine,
We’ll just have to wait.

So there you lie
In your incubator asleep,
Fighting on for survival,
Your mother still ill,
So much loss of blood.
Maybe I should be with her,
Though I know she’d want me with you.
My child,

So I sit and watch,
My heart beating to the sound
Of the mechanical blip,
That tells me you’re alive.

The doctor’s tell me I should sleep,
Should go home and rest,
Don’t they understand?
All I love
Is here.

Hours pass,
Still no change.
I recognise the look of fear in the nurse's faces,
For when I look in the mirror,
It matches that of my own.
Is hope fading?
Will you survive?

Much later now,
My battle with the tiredness continues,
I’m losing,
My eyes are heavy,
Though moistened by the welling tears,
I drift,

I dream of you,
My child
Cradled in my arms,
Giving you comfort as you cry,
Daddy will make it all better,
A pleasant dream.

Alarm bells ring,
The mechanical blip of your heart
Sounding a sombre low tone.
The nurses come running
But there’s nothing that can be done.
Just as quickly as I’m torn away
From your dreamland tears,
Your life is ripped away from me,
And my own tears start to flow,
My child,

As I walk out the room,
In need of air,
My need to breathe,
Another nurse approaches
Unaware of my sudden loss.
Sir I have news,
It’s about your wife,
I’m sorry.

© Copyright 2018 Byron Quinn. All rights reserved.

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