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Job Well Done

Moma, when you died I ask God 'Why'
He answered me quickly 'HER JOB IS DONE'
I started to cry pleading out to God
'That's my mother and I love her Dearly'.
God simply wispered close to my ear
'That's my child and I love her Dearer'.
I did'nt give up moma I CRIED out more
'I want to make her happy in life
and give her things that's nice'.
I heard a strong voice right close
to My ear no wisper just clear.
'I HAVE HER JUST REWARD'
I understood moma than and there
that there's nothing on earth
good enough for you here.

Dedicated To: Daphne Mason Wilson

Submitted: Monday, May 07, 2012
Edited: Monday, August 06, 2012


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Poet's Notes about The Poem

When my mother died I fell to my knees and cried out to GOD. God did Answer me. This is True
Dedicated to My Beloved Mother Daphne M. Wilson

Comments about this poem (The Game by NEDRA WILSON )

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  • Unwritten Soul (6/5/2012 6:20:00 AM)

    Such a cooling poetry, it fight all sad time with faith and love, Job well done for u too Nedra...Your mother job on earth was to take care a young generation to spread love and she did well and you are blessed with her love. Dont sad but be happy for her_Unwritten Soul

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  • Saadat Tahir (5/9/2012 12:46:00 PM)

    zealous and loving lines....
    pain and hurt shall not be done away but faith soothes it

    very nice
    peace...

    sat

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