A tiny hand we'll never hold,
A child without a name;
Your coos and giggles
Won’t touch our ears,
But we loved you just the same.
The twinkle in your little eyes,
Was not for us to see;
We longed to hold you in our arms,
But it never came to be.
Angels now hold your tiny hand,
They’ve given you a name;
Your coos and giggles grace their ears,
But we'll miss you just the same.
The twinkle in your little eyes,
Now lights the sky at night.
Angels hold you close in loving arms,
You’re always in their sight.
A tiny hand we'll never hold,
We have no reason why;
But we'll always hold you in our hearts,
Even though we said good-bye.
It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief,
Since "men don't cry" and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.
It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.
They always ask if she's all right
And what she's going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, but how are you?"
He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But "stays strong" for her sake.
It must be very difficult
To start each day anew
And try to be so very brave -
He lost his baby too.
(author unknown)
Men Do Cry
I heard quite often "men don't cry"
Though no one ever told me why
So when I fell and skinned a knee
No one came to comfort me.
And when some bully boy at school
Would pull a prank so mean and cruel
I'd quickly learn to turn and quip,
"It doesn't hurt", and bite my lip.
So as I grew to reasoned years
I learned to stifle any tears.
Though "be a big boy" it began,
Quite soon I learned to "be a man".
And I could play that stoic role
While storm and tempest wracked my soul
No pain or setback could there be
Could wrest one single tear from me.
Then one long night I stood nearby
And helpless watched my baby die,
And quickly found to my surprise
That all that tearless talk was lies.
And still I cry and have no shame
I cannot play that "big boy" game,
And openly without remorse
I let my sorrow take it's course.
So those of you who can't abide
A man you've seen whose often cried,
Reach out to him with all your heart
As one whose life's been torn apart.
For men do cry when they can see
Their loss of immorality.
And tears will come in endless streams
When mindless fate destroys their dreams.
--Ken Faulk