My child was young.
And still God's call for her rung.
It sang,
"Come to me,
Follow me in the stars."
So my child left to be free.
In the highest fars.
She pasted away,
From evil and sickness.
And in the grave she will lay.
Though no price needed a pay
God, so I ask.
Grant me this task.
Deliver my letters to her please.
Let her know, i am glad she free.
Dear Angels...
Is she happy with you?
Is my little one...
Having fun.
Is my little one...
Safe from her heavy ton,
Of sorrow and pain.
Safe from life's drowning rain.
Dear the Angels,
Dear a saint,
Wash away my daughters paint,
That covered her heart,
Tried making it faint.
But it failed, she was strong to the end.
Though she was young she still has to fend.
For her heart and soul
And for that, took a toll,
Now she will rest,
in Gods's hands.
Free from a devil's pest.
Dear Angels...
Please make her happy.
Give her everything I could not.
Save her from the devil's pot.
You know, she has fought,
Far to much for her young age.
Dear Angels,
Give her a new page.
With love,
A.C. Claire.
AN.
Okay so yes this is so crazy and new. This poem came from the amazing account that is,
PAINT-HOPE-GOLD a amazing account about cancer awareness! I will have another poems about them. (Or maybe 1000 you don't know!) This poem was about a mother who wrote to Angels to make sure her child, who died from cancer, is safe. The account is so crazy packed with inspiration and Ahhh. So many ideas!! Anyway hope you enjoyed because loved writing it! Till next time! And remember how lucky you are to be alive and healthy! Again, I love this account! Go. Follow. PAINT-HOPE-GOLD bye.
-A.C. Claire.
YOU ARE READING
Ethereal Illusions // Poetry Book
PoesíaHighest Rank: #41 (March 6, 2017) Ethereal, It means delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world. Illusions, It means wrongly perceived or interpreted by the senses. • I am just trying to find a place in the world, but...
