Infants Remembered In Silence (IRIS) - Poems

He Wasn't Even Three

Jennifer Foster

I wish someone would tell me that someday my hurt will go away.
But my aching heart constantly says that's just not going to happen today.
I wake every morning, no longer to the sound of his sweet tiny voice calling out for me.
I try hard to hold back my tears but it is just to much and I ask God "Why Dear Lord? He wasn't even three."
I go through my day wondering if he can really hear my voice because I do often talk to my little boy.
I ask God to make sure that my angel knows he was my Heaven on earth; my happy bundle of joy.
How I wish just once more I could hug my Baby; my little "tinky pie"
Little did I know the last time I held him in my arms would be our goodbye.
For my three other darlings I know I must carry on and be an example of strength and grace
But I cannot escape the gut wrenching throbs my heart feels, however, I will always smile when I close my eyes and remember my sweet sweet baby boy's beautiful face.

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