Just Say "I'm Sorry"

You don't know how I feel; please don't tell me that you do

There's just one way to know--have you lost a child too?

"You'll have another child"--must I hear this every day?

Can I get another mother, too, if mine should pass away?

Don't say it was "God's will"--that's not the God I know.

Would God, on purpose, break me heart, then watch as my tears flow?

"You have an angel in heaven--a precious child above."

But tell me, to whom here on earth shall I give this love?

"Aren't you better yet?" Is that what I heard you say?

No! A part of my heart aches and I'll always feel some pain.

You think that silence is kind, but it hurts me even more.

I want to talk about my child who has gone through death's door.

Don't say these things to me, although you do mean well.

They do not take my pain away; I must go through this hell.

I will get better, slow but sure--and it helps to have you near.

But a simple "I'm sorry you lost your child" is all I need to hear