Son - Poem by Kim Wilson
It's not right to bury a child, we'll miss your smile.
At the age of sixteen, this all seem so mean.
With my eyes filled with tears, my mind filled with sorry,
it's my heart that's in pain, I wont see you tomorrow.
Until we hug again, I'll remain missing you.
It's hard to believe this seems so untrue.
Into heaven with your wings you'll go, The angles are singing welcome,
But I wish you didn't have to go.
It's not right to bury a child, I'll miss your smile.
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