February 10th, a day I used to pay little heed.
Now recognized as the day you went to heaven and left us with mere memories
You owned 65 roses (cystic fibrosis) but never once let it control you
A courageous eight-year old you were
Throughout all the pokes and pricks, a smile was still etched on your face
A true fighter you were, even in your last moments
Those 25 minutes without life support you were stubborn, not letting go
The days before, however, you somehow knew
Never letting go of mom's scarf, staying at her side
Every doctor, nurse, dietitian, physical therapist, volunteer you ever met was there for you
You attracted many with that cute little smile of yours
The tears still shed relentlessly
Staying in a house full of your memory
Forever in our hearts you will remain
I know you are blissful in God's domain
Author's Note: This wasn't one of my best poems, but I wrote just to pour the feelings out.