Freddy

I wish I could say the unspeakable,
that I could describe the unseen,
but things that can only be felt
are better left alone.

The last breath of a child,
dozen month hands holding yours.
The gong that clashes, heavy and cold,
ringing agony of his mother in anxious ears.
Cringing at the sound.

I wish there was a language to make you feel what I see,
a dialect to touch your heart.
Love and suffering are only sounds,
unrealistic letters,
attempting to describe things only felt,
things better left alone.





A little over a week ago here at the hospital, I got to help with night care for a little boy who passed. When I came home I could hear his mother crying still. I didn't really know how to describe this, how to feel it out loud, persay. I still don't. I know that no one should have to go through that, any of it. Some terrors of the world you just have to let happen I guess.