Mother’s Death 1981 by Michael S Wilson

She died of that disease so long ago,
Taken from us too young it is a fact;
She is in a better spot we all know,
Escaped to an eternal golden tract.

Disease cares not for family concern,
Nor plays favorites with any loved one;
Good memories nor tender times discern,
To pick and choose beyond it’s powers sum.

Hereditary Cancer does push action:
We know our time on Earth is all too brief,
To grand goals and ambition does sanction
this scourge of humankind that brings such grief…
Run swift my relatives in your pursuits,
Before the funeral home dons our last suits.

End of the poem

15 random poems