My Tiny Tot {Christmas}

My hands have been holding,
what I am reporting to be,
something that is half of me.

Elmira is my little girl,
born yesterday.

Now shes stopped whining,
and I'm just kind of crying.

The little Laughter filled with joy,
is now broken, as a toy.

Without one plea, this tiny tot,
has seemingly lost all her lot.

Fingers only centimeters long,
I fear for losing,
I will only Bawl.

Nine inches, no pounds,
I don't wonder why,
that her heart stopped to sound.

Its an Erie thing to see a baby die,
and it so hard to stop the cries.

Especially when a mother lies,
not knowing tommorrow's rise.

Joy is a thing removed from my life.
For I have not a clue, why I have this strife.

If I could wish for ten thousand barrels of whiskey,
I would move them ten million miles,
for one more minute with my baby.

Elmira, Sleep.