Sonnet- When A Child Dies!
The saddest thing in life I know is when,
I can’t prevent the death of a young child;
My years of learning all seem awaste, then;
My heart with anger fills; my mind grows wild.
I shudder within myself, almost cry;
Was there a freak chance of saving life still?
I ask myself, my God, the question- 'Why
Death cruel stole the child's soul while still ill? ’
’Tis alright when an old man, diseased dies;
The bud had flowered; fruit was yet unripe;
The child had not a speck or stain of vice;
Who can the mother's lament ever wipe?
Alas! None can query the acts of God;
He is the Wisest One; we are but clod!