Father I See

January 25, 2011
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She holds the wisdom of wrinkles and time
Once parted to bring the good of mankind
To walk along her pearly white heaven
To float upon her clear drops she has cried
Skirts pull and push from moon past eleven
Sun warms and relaxes her with a sigh
Once lovely and calm she wished to be shared
Death made her beautiful, he so did care
Now gray and angry she misses her life
Misses the way she could light up the day
Now the men, children, and even their wife’s
Their burdens and poisons heavily weigh
Deep in her soul and her beautiful way
She struggles and fights to live out her day

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