Born too soon
But never too late.
Fighting and screaming.
A miracle was made.
Strawberries and vanilla.
Swallowed up by a crib.
Blue eyes that light the sky.
A scared and delicate soul.
A two pound baby
That the angels want to hold.
They wanted her from the beginning.
Over the years they let her know.
Every day was a struggle.
A moment of peace between tears.
I’d hold her hand.
She’d close her eyes.
I’d give her a kiss.
She’d try to smile.
They would tug at her heart strings.
I held her as long as I could.
She’s mine!
She doesn’t belong to you!
Bring back her sight.
Bring back her mind.
Bring back her health.
Bring back her life.
Bring her back to me.
To let us live the way
It was meant to be.
Today I can only see her face.
In the tiny little frame.
That sits on top of the piano.
Wanting to come out to sit and play.
Yesterday she sat there.
Pounding notes that screamed
She was alive.
Tomorrow the notes will be silent.
We won’t hear music anymore.
But when the sun goes down
And it starts to rain.
I’ll sit on the piano bench
And she will be there.
My mother Candy….
As sweet as her name.
-Tanya Powell
Tags: Tanya Powell