Mama, I bring you flowers, from a graveyard, I
found,
They were sad, weeping & flung upon cold ground,
Mama, I picked them up gently & promised them
love,
As Those who have gone, watched from high up above.
Mama, I bring you flowers & they are really
so small,
They are just little babies & they will never
grow tall,
Mama, tell them they´re special & to them
you will tend,
And their small broken stems shall then heal &
so mend.
Mama, I bring you flowers, with tiny hearts of
bright gold,
With soft petals of silk & colours so gay
& so very bold,
Mama, please put them into water & tell them
you care,
And their beauty, with you, they shall be willing
to share.
Mama, I bring you flowers, from those who have
gone,
With you, they´ll remember, the sun had once shone,
Mama, with your kind smile & your sweet caring
soul,
These flowers with you, will once again, feel
whole.
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