by Forrest Cook
No flags were flown at half mast
when my little baby died;
no limousine to carry her home
no crowds of mourners cried.
But the world for me stopped turning,
my heart is filled with pain
my tears could fill an ocean
I want to see her again.
I want to say I'm sorry
to feel her lick my face,
I want to hold her close to me
and always keep her safe.
I wonder how to end this hurt,
to ease my troubled soul,
I wonder how I can go on
without her I'm not whole.
And so I pray to God above
to take care of my child,
say thanks that she was here
if only for a while.
And I will love another,
though she'll always be a part
of everything that's good and kind,
she will always have my heart.
I know that she is happy,
she running in fields of gold,
and though I know she misses me
she'll someday me mine to hold.
So sleep my little baby,
your spirit now is free,
sleep my little baby,
you're still a part of me.
Original poetry by Forrest Cook
For my Skeeter