How Time Has Fled. Poem by Terry Collett

Ah, my son, how the time has fled
since Death took you among the dead.

Time has not healed my deepest wound
although some had that it would.

I'd have kept you back if I could
or have died in your place, my son,
if God or your fate had allowed.

But as you said it was your time,
although I feel it as a crime
by those who should have cared for you.

You know my son I talk to you
in quiet moments of the day,
tears shadowing my saddened words
on their way to you as frail birds.