 |
| 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 sittiing all alone beside her little sister's grave I want to see them both shopping at the mall and eating ice cream 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 |
 |