October 19, 2020
When I lost my child, the earth ceased to spin.
The moon will not rise, the tide won’t come in.
The sun insists on having its way,
Blasting its rays and rising each day.
Another day comes, my child is not here;
Another day comes, I live my worst fear.
Each morning I wake with the same painful thought;
The moon will not rise, the tide won’t come in.
The sun insists on having its way,
Blasting its rays and rising each day.
Another day comes, my child is not here;
Another day comes, I live my worst fear.
Each morning I wake with the same painful thought;