Oct 2015
She asked for a lullaby
to calm her fears and close her eyes.
Now she bleeds in melody
crimson notes played freely.
They drip to the floor
from a puddle in the crib,
and the mobile where she hangs
is the last place she would live.
It rocks and creaks
creating a beat,
while slowly she sways
in perfect harmony.
And as I am overcome
with the rhythm of regret,
I sing her one last lullaby
and finally go to bed.
to calm her fears and close her eyes.
Now she bleeds in melody
crimson notes played freely.
They drip to the floor
from a puddle in the crib,
and the mobile where she hangs
is the last place she would live.
It rocks and creaks
creating a beat,
while slowly she sways
in perfect harmony.
And as I am overcome
with the rhythm of regret,
I sing her one last lullaby
and finally go to bed.
This was a poem for a class I was in, often people ask what is happening, it is a caretakers perspective on the child they killed during an episode rather than singing her the lullaby she pleaded for.
