the little ones

Eyes filled with

watery innocence.

Minds an empty void,

only remembering pain,

loss.

They will not remember

holding your hand

that day,

or whispering to you

that perfect moment.

The little ones

who love

inconsistently.

Without pain,

without hate,

they were born

hopeful,

abundant love.

Though their hearts

are small,

it is not the realistic size

that matters.

The End

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