Bereaved Parents, Poems and Reflections


by Tom Wyatt
originally published in 1992

Sometimes it’s hard to pick her up and give Her the hugs that she needs;
She looks so much like Johnny, oh God help Me please.
I still wait for him to come downstairs Dripping wet after his bath;
Telling a joke, crossing his eye, anything To make me laugh.

Johnny Wyatt

But then I see him under that truck
His little body broken and still;
Death doesn’t discriminate and that ‘s a
Bitter pill.

The resemblance is scary she even laughs
The same what am I going to do?
Does the same fate await my girl, will death
Come and take her too?

All I can do is love her for herself not
Because she reminds me of him;
But as long as I can look into her eyes
His light will never dim.

Read Tom’s other works here