A young mother waits lonely,
But with war it didn’t start.
It began with a with a duty,
To country and heart.
With her husband at war,
Things are not as they seem.
Lonely days are without end,
Like its some kind of dream.
It seems even living,
Gets more difficult each day.
And in each daily letter.
Things are harder to say.
No more grand parades,
No excitement to bring.
Even so if there were,
It wouldn’t change a thing.
Alone with no husband,
No family and no friends,
Just another young mother,
Alone in the end.
1/31/05
This is sad Gary, the missing of the family is so hard to bear. This poem reach a very deep spot for me. Cheers Sylvie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely done one poem so sad, not sad as when a mother sees her son-this in turn makes her happly glad. This was a good poem. Sorrow hits us all at times in life, a husband, daughter, son, brother, sister, mother, or even a wife.Unfortunately we cannot have life without death. Life is filled with a taste of sorrow.Thankfully Heaven will embrace us all together one final day.That's all we really have to look forward to. Best regards-Mike Gale.