Twenty-Three Days
For twenty-three days this world was blessed,
Every second she was in it.
For twenty-three days a heroine fought
When she shouldn’t have lived a minute.
She came three months too early,
But was no easy prey for death.
For twenty-three days she battled
For each thimbleful of breath.
For twenty-three days she held on;
To her tiny life she clung.
For twenty-three days she fought for air
With each fragile, thumb-sized lung.
After twenty-three days her strength was done
And this world lost a priceless pearl.
It took twenty-three days for almighty death
To beat a two-pound baby girl.
It will never matter what persons I meet,
Or what lists of triumphs they show.
Little Amelia will always be
The bravest soul I'll ever know.
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