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