Young in age but aged so young

Denied no hymnal yet to be sung.

Against Her good nature, no heed to Her grace

Death stole a lamb with no wool to replace.

Left in the Valley, taken tomorrow

A gifted shadow of endless sorrow.

Resorting to silence, a melancholy state

Always too little, too little.. too late.

They’ll meet me where the sidewalk ends

Where the earth and concrete starts to blend.

In the Land of infinite time & space

And once more I will see their smiling face.