Mommy

Hey little girl, don’t cry.
Let me sing your favorite lullaby.
I know you miss your mother.
I do to since that day death caught her.
She won’t come home honey…
And I won’t be there too so often,
I need to earn our money…
Please baby girl, behave.
Please son, keep the girl safe.
Be a man! How could I ask that? That is just crazy… That is just mad…
Every morning they say, they saw mommy after they slept.
They saw her in their dreams, because that is the place where pure desires and memories are kept.
Sometimes I also see her, the times when I remember where our last picture together lays
Then I see her with her pale face.
I still have to figure it out how to do this…
Without my lady, without my love, without my miss…
I must know how this fits.
But above all I have to be here for these kids…