A poem to speak for Jerry and others

I received this poem in an email from a fellow CCF (children's Cardiomyopathy Foundation) member.


A Life yet to Come
By David Moore

My days were numbered from the very start
I fought for every breath due to my heart
My PDA closing I started to gasp
Just trying to breathe became such a task

The medicines they worked for a couple of days
But my heart still beating like I was running a race
It was beating so fast it was wearing me out
My heart was failing there was no doubt

My parents were worried, distressed, and confused
The tears now flowing due to the news
Tomorrows the day I go under the knife
I'm not even two weeks and fighting for my life

My lactic's were climbing and my function so poor
I had not the energy to play on the floor
I'm feeling so weak I just want to sleep
Something my mom is watching is starting to beep

I can hear them talking but just don't understand
I am still comforted by the warmth of her hand
The tone in her voice as she started to speak
Something about Jesus and my soul to keep

I have my eyes closed but I still see the light
I am very little but I know something's not right
I hear my mom cry as I took my last breath
But I am too young to fear this thing they call death

The first thing I saw when I reached toward the glow
Was the figure of a man that for some reason, I know
He wrapped me in his arms and I felt so safe
I reached up to him and I touched his warm face

He spoke so softly as not to startle me so
he told me he loved me and was letting me go
He told me a story of my life yet to come
That one day my living would be witness to some

I don't know why and I still can't explain
But I opened my eyes when I felt a sharp pain
I took a deep breath and I started to cry
I looked up to see mom with a tear in her eye

Still hooked to wires and lying in bed
For some reason I am stronger and wanting to be fed
My parents don't know it but I saw God that day
He gave me more time to frolic and play

God has his reasons that some live and some die
What some parents have to endure leaves a question. Why?
I know it's not fair but I don't question the choice
I am a witness for him and I still have a voice

My heart isn't normal but it's perfect you see
Because without it there's no story, no poem about me
I'm one of God's miracles a testament to his grace
I was only a week old but I got to touch his face