• The sky is dark,
    The clouds will cry.
    She lay on the ground,
    Not a single tear in here eyes.

    She has nothing left to mourn.
    Her heart is severly torn.
    She looks out a window,
    No longer containing that motherly glow.

    Her child lay beneath the ground,
    A poor baby, a poor soul drowned.
    She sits on a chair, alone,
    Wallpaper tearing, walls cracking in her home.

    She cries night after night,
    Asking God; asking anyone; why?
    Beneath the covers she lay cold.
    Beneath her skin her heart grows mold.

    Emptiness behind her eyes, unbearable pain.
    Every bit of happiness, good memories, slain.
    It's so sad; the mother is too weak to cry.
    So she just looks out a window, set on stand-by.

    One day a man came; knocking at the door.
    Jumping, heart pounding, she answers but no more.
    He says nothing, he looks her down.
    With no answer, she is shot to the ground.

    Her belongings are taken;
    Her photos, jewerly, and money.
    Gasping for breath, she screams no,
    As the robber takes her childs photo.

    He leaves, she stays.
    Her pulse stopping, her mind astray.
    Her body goes limp, her eyes roll back,
    Her blood flows away, she's lost without a track.

    Oh how sad it is,
    No one hears, no one knows,
    The poor mother is dieing;
    In her broken home.

    In her last moments of life,
    She struggles to the TV.
    Slipping in a video, pressing play,
    Her childs face appears, by the ocean bay.

    The mother weakly smiles,
    A tear strolling down her cheek.
    She whispers her childs name,
    As her pulse finally gives away.

    Her eyes open, to only see,
    Her child's hand pulling her soul free.
    With a gasp, she hugs her child tight;
    With all possible of might.