If she knew that she had mattered,
If she knew that people cared;
It may have saved her soul now battered,
And she could have lived the dreams she dared.
But she only saw the empty looks
Heard curt responses and refrains.
So she turned to poetry and to books
To avoid everyone’s disdain.
And when she could hang on no more
She closed her eyes, shed one last tear
And looked for the other shore
Putting aside her final fear.
When mourners gathered round
She couldn’t believe what they said.
As she looked down upon the ground
The body was buried and scripture read.
‘She was so strong; she was so brave.
She made a difference in my life.
Maybe if I said those things she would have been saved.
And we could still have her close, this mother and this wife.’