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| Never Comes |
| As I sit and stare into space I know I'm hunting for your face My heart forgets to beat As I listen for the sound of your feet But it never comes, It never comes I stand in the hall and look toward your room Hoping to see you come out soon I listen for the ring of your phone And your voice saying "Yes, I'm home" But it never comes, It never comes I go out side and look for your car coming downthe street I think maybe I'll hear the horn beep I listen for the door to slam And you to say "Mama, here I am" But you never come, you never come I go to the cemetery and sit by your grave I try very hard to pray I beg Him to turn back time If a life has to end, let it be mine But the answer I want never comes, It never comes People ask, "How are you today?" I lie and say " I'm Okay" Truthfully, "OK" I'll never be With out you ~~~~ my Kimberly "OK" it never comes, it never comes It would be fine with me if today was the end of the world Because then I could go to my little girl We could all be together again If the world would come to the end But it never comes, it never comes |
| by Yolonda Moore Mother of Kimberly Ann Moore |
| We Must Stay |
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| Kimberly Ann Moore Dec 7 1978 ~~ Nov 14 1997 |
| Kimberly was our little girl. We could not love her anymore. We do not love her sister any less, They both made us feel so blessed. But ~ Oh God ~ Our Kim was jerked away On a cold, cold, hateful day. Tavia is still here with us today, But something killed our Kimberly. We love her with all our souls Don't you see. How could he take our Kimberly? And make us live with all this pain Make us live with all this pain. We cling together as we weep We try but we can't sleep We close our eyes and hunt for her face But only emptiness is in her place. We're forced to live with all this pain We're forced to live with all of this We're forced to live We're forced. by Yolanda Moore Mother of Kimberly Ann Moore |
| Untitled I don't want to hold onto memories I want to hold my child I don't want to stare at pictures I want to look at my child I don't want to take flowers to the cemetery I want to put flowers in my little girl's hand I don't want to tell stories about the past I want for her to have a future and make new stories I don't want to clean her gravesite I want to help her clean her room I don't want to talk about what used to be I want her here, now I don't want to see my older daughter sitting all alone beside her little sister's grave I want to see them both shopping at the mall and eating ice cream as they stroll the halls I don't want to write poignant prose I want my child I don't want to write soul piercing poetry I want my child When did that become too much to want? By Yolonda Moore Mother of Kimberly Ann Moore Dec. 7, 1978-Nov. 14, 1997 |
| Daddy's Funny Valentine I wish I could make things all right. I wish I could see your sweet face tonight. I wish I could hold your hand real tight. But, I can't..... I love you so much it seems that you are near. Your voice, at times, I think I hear. But, all I have is a special tear. Knowing that you're there and I am still Here. I cherish all the things that we shared, Love and Joy and Fun. It showed how much we cared! You now go your way and I go mine. But,we will be together again sometime. But, until that day we find- You will always be Daddy's Funny Valentine |
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