Chester

Although you lived a short life, I hoped those short days made you happy.

I held him on my arms,
Covered in my shirt like a babe,
He could've fit in any small purse
And still sleep soundly
That was how tiny he was;
I remember the past days
I held a sickly tiny being.
I had hoped,
Begged to the gods above
That this tiny being be brought to life
Yet, somehow,
No matter the hopes and the warmth,
All I could do was watch
As her breath halts to stop.
But only this time,
I had known a bit of him,
Before he passed away,
Held onto to him
Rocked him gently on my arms
Covered in warmth
Whispering hopes and the days ahead,
He stared at me in those small, round eyes;
I smelled it,
A hint of death,
Just like before,
But I ignored it
And still whispered to him
The hopes of getting better;
Should I have not left?
Would he have lived?