Momma, 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 whispered close to my ear
'That's my child and I love her Dearer'.
I didn't give up momma 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 whisper just clear.
'I HAVE HER JUST REWARD'
I understood momma then and there
that there's nothing on earth
good enough for you here.
Dedicated To: Daphne Mason Wilson
zealous and loving lines.... pain and hurt shall not be done away but faith soothes it very nice peace... sat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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