This is actually a poem I wrote for one of my stories. The female protagonist is sitting in the hospital awaiting news of her friend who’s been in an accident. Having loved and lost before, and terrified to relive the experience, She picks up a children’s book off the counter and begins reading through the poem, finding a new perspective on life and death she’d always avoided.
I’d like to think this could actually make a halfway decent children’s book in real life. But I don’t know enough about child psychology, death, and grief to know for sure. Either way, I hope you enjoy it.
The day that you leave
I know I will cry
I will kick and I’ll scream
I’ll throw my hands high
But I have you now.
We play in the sand
We run through fields
Will you hold my hand?
Hold my orange peel?
Because I have you now.
We can still talk out loud
Run about at the park
Get lost in the crowd
Til you’re gone in the dark
But I have you now
When the day comes
On the hospital bed
Your body like the crumbs
That fall from my bread
I won’t know what to do
I’ll feel lost and alone
No friend to run to
To bring to my home
By your grave I will stand
You with God in the sky
On my knees I will bend
With love that won’t die
Because I had you then