The Mother’s Grief


In the ground thy child slept
Beneath the grave where his mother wept

A grieving cry was her sorrow
Life is a thing you can only borrow

Oh the boy had wispy blonde hair
Which the mother used to gently brush with care

How ever rosy were his cheeks
It gave her insurmountable joy that lasted for weeks

But soon lay sick the child on his bed
Have mercy on my son! The mother plead

Soon enough, the boy became cold and pale
The mother knew, she began to wale

A grieving cry was her sorrow
Life is a thing you can only borrow

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