 | Down pours the rain from the melancholy sky.
The wind whispers her name as it passes by.
Small little boy is kneeling down in the mud;
gazing upon the scratches oozing his blood.
“Mother? Are you there? Please, I need you!
I’m cold, tired, sore, and feeling so blue.
Why, oh why, must I walk through this rain?
Why in the world must I feel this pain?”
Finding some shelter; he lays down to sleep.
Unable in the cold - he begins to count sheep.
He wakes – later; to the warmth of a golden sun
and with him stands his dear missed loved one.
“Don’t worry dearest; for we all fall and crash.
Don’t go hating; don’t go blaming - play it rash.
It is pain that allows us to appreciate pleasure;
we remember the bad and the good we treasure.
We can use the pain to learn from our mistakes.
Don’t give up hope; hearts heal after they break”
Hand-in-hand they walk off home - together,
“Oh how I love and appreciate you, Mother.” |  |
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