That lady who covers her face with her hair , As she notices your new bundle in your pushchair, “What is she doing ?†You think in your head No knowledge that her baby is dead, As you walk past a pain fills her heart, She remembers the day clearly that they had to part Each thing as a mother we all take for granted Bring back painful images in her brain they are planted, She longs to know the sound of the cry, Punished her self daily because she doesn’t know why, Why she cannot just have one more moment in time, To absorb all the beauty and sing you a rhyme, Instead what haunts her is silence around, Longing for your cry but no single sound How can something so perfect be taken like that, The pain in her heart as her tummy goes flat, That makes the loss then become real, Of her precious baby born still, People then avoid to speak Because that woman is now grieving and weak, But know the joy by you saying it’s name, It’s better than silence that brings so much pain, The only way for her to cope each day, Is trying to acknowledge your life in each way, By the smallest of gestures a smile breaks for a while, Even though pain is underneath that smile, It’s gratitude she feels for taking time to listen About her precious baby whom she is missing So for a moment Grab your babies young or old Think of all the memories you hold, But think of the lady who covers her face In her heart always an empty space . Written by Gemma marsh