Kacie B. Sharpe

Poetry, short prose, & general musings.

When I think of all the things

You did to raise this child

The sacrifices & late nights

How your love could stretch for miles

I know it now more than ever

As I raise babies that are mine

The pain that you must feel

How daily you must resign

To knowing all that’s left

Is a stone that weathers and fades

All you can do for your boy now

Is put flowers on his grave.