Your son is dead they said
I remember little more
Until waking naked, freezing, foetal on the kitchen floor
No tear's came no primal scream
A living nightmare a waking dream
Last breath taken at four years old
Eyes closed, lips blue his skin was icy cold
Years have passed I still feel pain from the worst day of my life
Even simple memories open wounds like the sharpest knife.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
Your son is dead they said
I remember little more
Until waking naked, freezing, foetal on the kitchen floor
No tear's came no primal scream
A living nightmare a waking dream
Last breath taken at four years old
Eyes closed, lips blue his skin was icy cold
Years have passed I still feel pain from the worst day of my life
Even simple memories open wounds like the sharpest knife.
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