Precious life, hers never seemed <br />Working from dusk till down <br />For anyone who inquires, with vim <br />She does every thing and anything in return for nothing <br /> <br />But a day turned into a deep dark night <br />She gave life to a baby, after a great agony and fight <br />Who thought she would leave here? <br />For she was strong and holding tight <br />But before any one could do anything <br />Her body froze and her face turned white <br /> <br />Her kid and siblings cried and people mourned <br />Who would bury a kind woman, put her under a stone <br />Even the sky cried, pouring its heavy rain <br />As if agonized and trying to wash away the pain <br /> <br />The husband’s cheek wet with tears <br />Cleaning his nose <br />All he could offer his wife <br />After her death was <br />Her favorite poem in her <br />Tombstone he did disclose <br />And for the last time her all time favorite <br />White rose. <br /> <br />October 10.2005<br /><br />Konjit Berhane<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/white-rose-2/
