IN REMEMBERANCE OF
MARY JANE WEAVER
June 23, 1941 - July 9, 2003

FORSAKEN

As I sit here, life proceeding,
I wonder what my time is for;
And then I wonder if it's used,
as wisely as it was before.

I know it's not, and so I feel;
my time needs more of what is real.
To find some way I can express
and rid myself of this emptiness.

No longer do my children climb
upon my lap to feel so fine;
Or hug my neck with arms so loving,
or chime out words to keep me going.

But life goes on to things so new,
for everyone, my children too;
Yes, now with children of their own,
yhey must move on to things alone.

What place in life can I hold dear,
without the love of family near;
As God is present up above,
I'll find a way to use this love.

To fill my time with usefullness,
and feel my life begin again.
For the past has now forsaken me,
and I feel so empty now from within.


1989

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