Your final poem
2014 July 31
Created by louise bedford 9 years ago
God saw you were getting tired, and a cure was not to be,
So put his arms around you and whispered
"come with me"
with tearful eyes we watched you suffer
and saw you fade away.
Although we loved you dearly,
we could not make you stay,
A golden heart stopped beating,
Hard working hands to rest;
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best.