Young in age but aged so young
Denied no hymnal yet to be sung.
Against Her good nature, no heed to Her grace
Death stole a lamb with no wool to replace.
Left in the Valley, taken tomorrow
A gifted shadow of endless sorrow.
Resorting to silence, a melancholy state
Always too little, too little.. too late.
They’ll meet me where the sidewalk ends
Where the earth and concrete starts to blend.
In the Land of infinite time & space
And once more I will see their smiling face.