The Empty Cradle

A simple, quiet place,
That sometimes holds my dreams,
Yet more often than not,
A place I lay my sorrows.

Those precious moments,
Here rests his tiny head,
Make the long hours between,
That much harder to bear.

One heart beats,
In this dark room,
No soft light shines,
To comfort and reassure.

A teddy bear sits alone,
On a neatly folded blanket.
And a tiny pair of shoes,
Are always here to haunt me.

No forehead to kiss,
No goodnights to say,
Just an empty cradle,
At the end of the day.

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