She takes the back road and the lane. Past the school that has no changed. In all this time. She thinks of when the boy was young. All the battles she had won. Just to give him life. That man. She loved that man. For all his life. But now we meet to bring him flowers. And only God knows why. For what's the use in pressing pamls. When children fade in mother's arms. It's a cruel world. We've so much to loose. And what we have to learn we rarely choose. So if it's God who took her son. He cannot be the one living in her mind. Take care my love she said. Don't think that God is dead. Take care my love she said. You have been loved. If I was weak forgive me. But I was terrified. You brushed my eyes with angels wings full of love. The kind that makes devils cry. So these days. My life has changed. And I'll be fine. But she just sits and counts the hours. Searching for her crime. So what's the use of pressing palms. If you won't keep such love from harm. It's a cruel world. You've so much to prove. And heaven helps the ones who wait for you. Well I've no daughters I've no sons. Guess I'm the only one. Living in my life. Take care my love he said. Don't think that God is dead. Take care my love he said. You have been loved...