The tears are many, each morning as I arise
I think of you mother, and the reasons you died.
The weight of my heart, the burden of my pain
Brings very little comfort, knowing I'll see you again.

I want to scream, to rid these pent up feelings
To shout out your name, right through the ceiling.
The hurt I feel, the emptiness and the loss
I know what Mary felt, when HE died on the cross.

The many friends, visitors who paid their respects
Supported those moments, but what about the rest?
The many days after, the mornings and quiet nights
How do I get through them, there is no one in sight?

I try to keep busy, that's what they said to do
Then my mind starts wandering, right back to you.
Such sorrow, and grief, never felt this before
How do I go on, Mother, how will I endure?

I want to see you, to touch your ivory face
To hold and hug you, just for one last embrace.
To smell your fragrance, to look into your eyes
Guess I'll have to wait now, until the day that I die.