Frankie

Seven is too young to die…

You were too little to be so sick.

I watched you lying in a tent,

Helpless

Nothing to give you

Only hugs.

Band-Aids didn’t work anymore

Round face, sad eyes

Pain that could be seen through

The plastic that helped you breathe.

Seven is too young to die…

So little in size, big in spirit

Hospital food, ordinary, boring…

Would sneak you burritos in my purse.

Even without hair

With marks on your head

Your were the most beautiful boy

I’ve ever known

So brave till the end.

Seven is too young to die…

Your parents stopped coming

There were other little ones to care for.

You would have been twenty-eight this year.

Could have gone to your graduation

Or sat in the front row at your wedding.

We shared a lifetime, you and I

In two short years.

Your face will live beside my heart

We will meet again

Seven is too young to die…

And twenty-one years

Is a long time, to wait to cry…

All rights reserved.  ©2009 by Sara Fryd