Kirsty's Poem

Thier eyes, like chocolate coins with the gold wrapper removed.
Never to see their mother's face again.
Never to see their father's faces- for he had two.
Never to open again to Rice Krispies.

Sister and brother. Father. Mother.
Yolanda and Theo lie side by side in a room of shattered trust.
Now dust.
At only four and two years old.
Their mother weaps for them, weakend, crushed under.
Whilst icy cold tears roll like thunder.
Down her cheeks and off her lips that used to kiss their heads goodnight.
They crash below on the even colder, icy bodies of her children.

'Separated'. Mum and dad separated.
"Dad"?
He is NO dad.
No daddy.
No Papa Bear.

No more bundles of joy.
No more of the "caring and happy" girl and boy.

Laughter once echoed throughout the walls of their flat.
Now no-one is ever going to hear that.

For they now rest in God's kingdom.
In the special place the Lord reserves only for children.
For all in this Kingdom have gone too soon.
Nobody in this garden had been ruined yet.
Their minds still pure, their breath still fresh, their bodies unscarred.
No-one to cause harm, or raise alarm.
Innocence. Safety. Caring and calm.
Now Protected for always in God's palm.