My Son - First in a Series - A Poem By: Alan Mack

 My Son

It is early morning, 

you have just blessed us with your presence. 

I hold the oxygen to your nose.

For your little heart could not do it on its own.

They take you away to a place with hope of answers. 

This is the beginning of your journey. 

My heart is frantic. What is wrong, I am filled with worry.

I wait for the Doctors to tell me what is wrong.

The Doctors come and tell me,

He may not be with you for very long. 

There is one thing we can do. There is no guarantee. 

We will send him away to a place….they say, we will see.

There is so much uncertainty, yet I hold out hope. 

That my little boy will make it, 

So I can bring him home. 

Poetry Written By:

Alan Mack

Poetry Published By:

Eryn Dunbar