Truly speaking death is not a pretty thing

Truly speaking death is not a pretty thing.
It pains me when I think of my mother.
Who brought death into this world?

My mother passed away and it’s been four years now.
When we were in the rural areas we called out to her,
To come and eat,
But she did not wake up.

We ran to the fields to call our grandfather,
I remember feeling as if I was possessed,
When I thought of my mother.

If only she was here I wouldn’t be sad,
She would be doing everything for me.

To those up above,
I am praying to God to please look after me,
I am in pain.

Itai

[social_warfare]

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