Today I am reminded of many emotions that stirr inside and this poem says everthing it needs to.
I want to turn the clock back … to before you went away,
To get the chance to tell you, and beg of you to stay.
I want to turn the clock, to face against the wall
To hope that the sickle, this time, fails to fall.
I would cradle your tiny body and together we would sleep,
Beneath a comfy blanket with booties on your feet.
You would recognise me by the noises that I make,
The songs I’d be singing while I baked for you a cake.
The house would fill with laughter as I introduced to you,
A sister and two brothers, who would be in love with you.
They’d fight to let me hold you, and smother you in love,
You would have fitted in this family, like a hand into a glove.
But clocks don’t go backwards, time refuses to stand still,
Mothers can’t make it…
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