Thanksgiving 6

My child, my daughter, my divine delight
Of all my life the very dearest prize
Who daily  fills my heart with love and light
Is dying here before my anguished eyes

So pale and wasted she is lying there
Her fragile jaw set firm against her pain
Brittle and wasted her glorious hair
I think I'll never see her smile again

O parents, do your daughters misbehave
And fail sometimes to do as they are bid?
It only means they're healthy, well and brave
Oh, how I wish now that mine ever did

Please pause amid the squalor of the day
And grateful be to let your children play


One thought on “Thanksgiving 6

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