Loser

So I have been thinking about posting this poem for a while... but just.. wasn't sure. I was thinking about saving it for my book, but then again, I wanted to share it in the present and not later on.

What inspired this was me thinking about how I tell about Chloe. When I get to the point of her story where she passes away, I choose my words carefully. Sometimes its too hard to say "she passed away" or simply "she died". I feel like those word are to mature for such a little child. I like to say "she went to heaven" or "she went to be with Jesus".  Those words seem to be more fragile, soft, and pure like Chloe was. Then I think about how other people may say it.

--I am going to stop for a moment and I just want to say, if you say this phrase, it doesn't offend me, it doesn't bother me. Its just simple something I cant get my self to say. It doesn't feel natural coming out of my mouth and the words again... are just to mature for a little baby. And if you are in someway offended, I am truly sorry it wasn't meant.--

To often I hear "he/she lost their fight to..."

There is just something about that word lost.

I got to thinking about how if you lost to something... that makes you a loser by dictionary definition.

So I thought about like this: Chloe lost her fight to EB. She was on the loosing side. She was a loser. 

I know we all know that two sentences are not true. but what about the first?

So it inspired me to write this poem

 

Am I a Loser?

On the day I was born when you first looked in my eyes you were on top of the world.

When you first held me in your arms and kissed my cheek, you fell in love.

So am I a loser?

Remember when you first told me you loved me while rubbing your belly, or when you first felt me kick, you were glowing.

So am I a loser?

when you first got to feed me you were so proud. And when my little hand grasped around your finger, we made a memory.

So am I a Loser?

Remember how hard we fought and how much we tried. The way you smile like it was all okay while you held back tears. You were so strong.

So am I a Loser?

When you read me the Bible and told me about Jesus, I could feel his arms softly holding me. You seemed so edified because you felt this too.

So am I a Loser?

Remember the night I first met Jesus, you cried so much. You held my little body and prayed just so you could praise the Lord.

Mommy Jesus told me he was proud.

So am I a Loser?

I have my perfect skin to hold my perfect body. Hair that flows while the angels sing to me.

I no longer have to hurt, I no longer have to cry.

So am I a Loser.

I watch you from so high above, But when you see that butterfly I sent that just for you.

There are so many other children here, we laugh and play and tell stories all day.

I am thankful I am here, no more suffering can come, Ill be waiting for you for the battle is finally won.

 

 

 

 

Matthew 19:14-15 

14But Jesus said, Suffer little children and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven. 15And he laid his hands on them, and departed thence.