Day 11: Jammies

Inevitably comfort steals the picture,
softness, elastic and fleecy mixture

Today the word just stabs my mind,
the memory of them I’m dragging behind.

These are the little ones I bought,
when hospital gown consumed my thought

Life hung in wispy daze-swirled room
my baby’s life was in danger, undoubtedly too soon.

The pink silken monkey, a size 6x
would be her cure in the moment’s test.

Her blood was sweet, her body frail,
her life was wasting, trending, to no avail.

But the jammies, so soft and so sweet,
made her feel like she was eating a treat.

They represent the dreaded day,
diabetes stole my daughter away.

I cannot get rid of them, hard as I try,
for every time I look at them I begin to cry.



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