Monday, February 13, 2012

Trudy

The gray of time in her shoulder length hair
And heavy is the life cross she has to bear
But she is not one to look for sympathy
And few if any are as brave as she.

Her only son diagnosed as mentally insane
And in a psychiatric hospital he may remain
Until the reaper to him give the call
The reaper who will one day claim us all.

Her husband taken from her in his prime
He was in the wrong place at the wrong time
In his place of work a gas cylinder exploded and he died instantly
A young man he was only thirty three.

Their son was five then and their daughter four
And that's going back some twenty years or more
She had to raise her children on her own
And believe me some hard times she has known.

With dyes and tints she does not hide her gray
And though Trudy she has known a better day
The years on her are beginning to tell
Still for one in her fifties she is looking well.

And though she greets me with a friendly hi
She is not talkative she does seem shy
Of grief and sorrow she's had her own share
And heavy is the cross she has to bear.

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