One Was Taken, One Was Left Poem by John F. McCullagh

She whispered, "it is time for me to go".
So soft, I barely heard her words.
Her fight was gallant; these past few months,
Now she prepared to leave this world.

Each breath was labored; the morphine drip
eased her passage and her pain.
Mom had been there for me all my years.
Now only one of us remains.

Are my tears selfish? I blink them back,
As I hear her death declared
I hope she's with the angels now
and the God who answered one last prayer.

She had one lesson left to teach;
In the end, be ready, that is all.
I finally let go of her hand,
The hand I'd held since I was small.